


True-O

by maweea



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Everyone Else is Here Too - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, akechi is rich and gay, akeshu - Freeform, ren is broke and gay, shuake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 81,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maweea/pseuds/maweea
Summary: A soft breeze dipped into the alleyway, picking up strands of Akechi’s hair and sending them floating on the wind, carrying his scent. Ren inhaled as he instinctively took a step backward, his back landing against the metal door to the club and slamming it shut, locking them both outside.The scent of Akechi took Ren back thirteen years to that very scene. Soft and light, such a contrast to this man’s aura. It felt absolutely lethal. And yet, Ren’s mouth watered despite his quenched thirst. He palmed the brick wall behind him, nails digging into their porous surface. His fangs began to creep out of their hiding spot, every inch of him yearning, begging for a taste.=Desperate for supplemental income in a cruel world where vampires have recently entered the public sphere, Ren Amamiya, a vampire, is confronted with a tantalizing employment opportunity from someone he'd least expect.**E Rating is for graphic depictions of violence that may be triggering to some readers. Mature 'explicit' content will occur later on in publishing.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 77
Kudos: 328





	1. One

In the thirteen years since his rebirth, Ren was certain he would never forget the inciting incident which had started it all; a small act of justice.

It was dark that night - too dark for human eyes. The streetlights overhead were dim, dirt and scum cast over their smooth globes. By the dumpster, one flickered without resolve, plinking sporadically and washing the black asphalt with a dull amber glow.

He had been walking home from the convenience store, a bag of snacks and energy drinks in hand. Autumn finals were the next day and, as many students could attest, ‘twas the season for cramming knowledge into their brains and Cheetos down their gullet without hopeless and frantic abandon. Checking his phone idly, his friends back at home were asking what was taking so long. He lazily entered in his response:  “train delays. sry.”

As his thumb hit enter, a sharp shriek pierced the air, cutting through the cold autumn silence like a white-hot knife. The plastic bag in Ren’s hand slipped from his fingers, now coated with a balmy sweat. His eyes searched for the origin, turning to the flickering light just in time to see a young child - couldn’t be older than grade school - flung into the street, his backpack skidding against the uneven pavement, breaking his fall. 

Ren’s legs shot out before he could think, his worn sneakers screeching against the rubber paint of the curb as he lept into action. The child turned to him, a mop of auburn hair flying around his fair face, brown eyes filled with terror. He gasped back a sob as Ren approached, wordlessly pointing to the alleyway.

A woman dressed in a dark blue bodycon dress, fishnet tights, and black platform heels was pinned to the ground by a man twice her size, bald and built like a tank. His right hand was pressed firmly across her mouth, his jaw taut and lips peeled back into a horrifying snarl. 

_ “You’ll be good to keep quiet, bitch,” _ the man growled, his voice gargling with spit and adrenaline.

“Get your hands off of her!”

Ren’s voice was raw with fear, though a hidden force of courage surged forward as he stepped in front of the child. His knees were light and felt on the verge of collapse. He feared he might.

“Oh?” The man turned his head to Ren, glowing eyes hidden behind a pair of orange-tinted glasses. He was pale, even in the amber glow of the flickering light. “A white knight to rescue this damsel in distress?” His voice was smoother now, though still gravely enough it sent chills down Ren’s spine. The man smiled, baring a set of long, white fangs. “Get lost, punk. This isn’t your business.” 

As the man turned back to his prey, Ren peeked over his shoulder to the child, who stared on to the man, shivering, whimpering.

“Call the police,” Ren urged him, forcing his phone into the boy’s hands. “Remember the number? 110. Go wait over there,” he instructed, pointing across the street.

“110,” the boy mouthed back, as he scrambled to his feet, disappearing into the dark.

Ren turned back to the man and woman, stepping closer. The woman met his eyes, her gaze shaken and raw as her eyes flooded with tears, staining her face with watery mascara. The man, sensing Ren’s presence, tilted his head as he licked his fangs. 

“You’re ruining my meal,” he growled. “I’m not one for an audience.”

“I said,” Ren said in a low tone, fear shaking his voice. He had never seen a vampire in real life before. “Get your hands off of her.”

“Hmph.” 

The man slid his hand away from the woman’s face, as he moved to stand. The woman was still frozen with fear. Ren saw that her ankle was broken, likely from the fall from her heels. It was twisted in an abnormal direction. Bile began to rise in Ren’s throat. The man observed her for a short moment before flaring his nostrils and turning to Ren instead.

“I suppose I can be swayed, even by little white knights like yourself,” he hummed.

Without skipping a beat, his heel stomped down into her left leg, crushing the bone in one fluid motion. A blood-curdling shriek filled the air as she curled inward, shaking violently. 

“Young blood  _ does  _ taste the best after all. Not stale like this whore.” 

**_“Mom!”_ **

_ “You piece of —”  _ Ren’s words cut off as he rushed forward, right arm arched above his ear as he aimed his swing for the man’s face. 

“Nnh!” 

It landed, to his surprise, without being blocked by the assailant. Dark, nearly-black blood dribbled down the man’s chin, drawn from his fangs piercing into his lips. The man spat out the blood to the pavement, near the crumpled woman. His gaze had changed, first annoyed, now lethal. 

_ “You brat,” _ he hissed. “Fine. I’ll help myself to a three-course meal, instead.”

His hands took hold of Ren’s shoulders with a superhuman strength. Before Ren could blink he was pinned, facing the wall of the alleyway with his attacker behind him. His cheek scraped against the harsh surface of the brick as the man held him with unyielding power.

“And you’ll be the appetizer.” 

Ren squirmed as he felt hot breath on his neck, his eyes searching for some kind of escape, frantic gasps beginning to turn into terrified whimpers. His eyes locked with the boy who had run to be at his mother’s side, the phone discarded, stuck on the home screen and glowing in the dark. 

It started as a small poke, and turned into a tearing sensation, hot and wet along the nape of his neck. Ren breathed in to scream, and his voice failed him, his vision crossing and his legs growing weak. The man behind him moaned inwardly, his chest reverberating with pleasure as he drew Ren in, deeper and deeper. His hands, cold as ice, held him firm as he struggled with all his might.

His body felt cold, weak, and so full of fear and despair he could hardly notice the boy screaming for the man to stop, pleading for his mother to wake up. The police had not come. People in their homes were closing their windows, drawing their blinds. His motions became slower and harder, his vision fading as the man consumed him, his warm breath reeking of iron. It made Ren think of old, moldy pennies. Ren felt the hot drops of blood slide up his neck and drop off his chin, some splatters touching his lips.

And just as sleep promised a much needed relief, it rescinded the promise. The man let him go. He discarded him as one would an empty bottle on a highway. The cold began to sink in, coating him like the onset of high tide, washing over him and soaking him with an icy sweat. Shivering, Ren looked up to him, unable to speak.

“We’ll see what kind of  _ white knight  _ you’ll be,” the man began, wiping Ren’s blood from his mouth with a white handkerchief from his tailored suit. “When the  _ thirst  _ sets in. My welcoming present to you  _ — _ I’ll leave the kid.”

Ren’s vision faded as the world slowed around him. The man turned to the woman and kicked the child away to the curb just as he had when Ren had first approached him. He watched as he knelt down to the woman, raising her to rest on his knee, and sunk his teeth deep into her neck. Sound washed away, though he could hear her desperate screams and the pleas of the child as he sunk deeper and deeper into the numbing cold abyss. 

***

“Mister?” 

Ren’s eyes ached and his head burned and throbbed. It felt like what the movies described as a hangover. His jaw felt as if it had been crushed, his fingers tingling like he had been shocked. A small set of hands held onto his arm, shaking him violently awake.

“Mister! Please,” a too-loud voice begged. “Please, wake up!”

Ren felt the air knock back into his lungs, opening his eyes to find the child above him, red, swollen eyes leaking tears that splattered onto his cheeks. He instantly recoiled from the child, clutching his neck. His throat felt raw and dry, burning like a fire. He breathed in, and instead of the moldy pennies and rotting garbage, smelled the sweetest and most tantalizing scent he’d ever experienced. 

It was strange - soft and fluffy, sweet and airy. Like cotton candy…? No, like…  _ pancakes _ . Buttery even, like freshly popped popcorn, and silky and saccharine like maple syrup. 

It smelled warm. 

It was coming from the child. 

Ren’s upper teeth began to throb with a pain so mind-numbingly awful he felt they’d fall from his mouth. He groaned and whimpered, doubling over as the pain surged deeper and deeper along the top of his mouth. His throat begged for relief, and seeing the child in front of him seemed to make his mouth salivate. He yearned for him  _ —  _ yearned for a taste.

“Mister  _ — _ ” the child began.

“Where’d he go?” Ren demanded, his voice so crackly and sore it hurt to speak. He scarcely sounded like himself - scaring himself and the kid.

“He left,” he whispered. “He left us  _ — _ my mom, she won’t get up.” 

“Where’s that phone,” Ren continued, lifting his head to look at his surroundings. It was as bright as dusk outside, though the sun was no where close to rising. The child’s mother lay motionless on the dark pavement, pale and stiff, her lips an icy blue. “Go get the phone.”

As the child got up to run for the phone, a soft breeze blew through their way, carrying his scent back to Ren. Ren struggled not to immediately follow him, though the intense fatigue that had set over him aided this. When he returned with it, his small hands were shaking. Ren wasn’t sure if he could hear his own heart racing, or if it was the child’s. Ren reached for the phone with quivering hands, not minding how the child stared at him, cautious, but fearful.

“Dial 110,” he barely croaked out. “Tell them to come here. Your mom and you need help.”

“Yongen-Jaya,” the kid muttered, shaking as he dialed the phone. Ren began massaging his gums, trying to drive the ache away, holding his breath. The child began speaking to the dispatcher as best he could, though his words halted as soon as he locked eyes with Ren’s mouth. “Ah…”

Ren felt the newly-formed point to his canine teeth just as the kid squeaked out a gasp. His breath mingled with the sweet air. A gnawing urge developed in Ren’s gut, and the heartbeat he heard grew faster, lighter - like a hummingbird taking flight. Ren flinched back and scooted away, troubled to hear the child’s speech with the dispatcher become desperate.

_ “Stay calm and stay put,” _ the dispatcher said through the phone, so loud it seemed they were right there with them. _ “Our officers will be there shortly.” _

The child hung up the phone and handed it back over to Ren, watching him carefully.

“I’ve gotta go,” Ren told him. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re one of them now, too, aren’t you?”

***

“It’s just one night. Four hours tops.”

“Mm.”

  
“I personally will be using it as a chance to study the human form indulging in a primal desire through the medium of modern dance. It should prove to be an incredibly enlightening experience.”

“And me? What am I supposed to do?”

“... Indulge yourself for a change?”

Ren set the six-pack of  _ True-O  _ on the counter with a blunt  _ thud,  _ raising his eyebrows with a pessimistic doubt. Yusuke jumped slightly, turning away from his vanity to reveal a gaudy eye-makeup look, ‘enhanced’ with rhinestones speckled around his dark gray eyes.

Ren stifled a laugh as best he could. Yusuke raised a hand to his chin, awaiting praise.

“You look amazing, sweetie,” Ren smirked.

“It’s a new palette,” Yusuke said, ignoring his obvious sarcasm. “Limited edition and forty-seven shades.”

“How much did that set us back?” Ren asked. Rent was due in a few days and they would be coming up short, as per usual. 

Yusuke’s face lit up. “Nothing! Ren, this is the perks of becoming an influencer these days. They have these things called PR lists, and  _ — _ ”

“Will the PR list pay our rent?” Ren interrupted, looking at the calendar. “Or is it time we moved again?”

Yusuke’s bright face grew dim quickly, like a rain cloud had passed over his head. He followed Ren’s gaze and sighed, turning back to the vanity. “Perhaps, you could find a better job than a StarVucks closer.”

Ren swallowed hard as he plucked his name tag off of his shirt with a sharp yank. “You said mixing wine with  _ True-O _ wasn’t a bad idea, yeah?”

“Ren,” Yusuke groaned. “Drinking here won’t solve your problems.”

“Hell, you’ve got that century-old wine hidden behind the toilet. Time to bust that out?” 

Yusuke’s neck jerked around, his gaze lethal. “You wouldn’t! That is a  _ very _ special bottle. It is  _ older _ than you for a very specific reason—”

“It’s the date your huge castle in Transylvania was foreclosed. Yes. I know.” 

It was a sore spot for Yusuke, his unreliable mentor and companion for the past thirteen years. He had turned back in the 1800s from a particularly seedy duchess who he had taken as a muse in exchange for eternal youth. Little did he know, he’d be sucking the necks of stablehands and beggars, enticing them in with sketches and later skipping town once their blood had been drawn. He was one of the top vampires of his era, before a culling took their hidden society down, stripped him of his wealth and status, and left him making money where he could and spending it wherever they’d take it. 

He had taken Ren in after seeing the young man struggle to find non-human prey in the middle of Milan during fashion week. He knew a hungry fledgeling at a mere glance, and taught him a simple donor on the black market wouldn’t be financially viable unless he rose up the ranks.

Granted, now that vampires were public and non-human diets were becoming the norm lest you attract police attention, a black market donor was actually  _ more _ willing to come forward. Something about a kink. Ren had lost the taste for it early on, feeling it meshed two acts that… never really belonged in the first place.  _ True-O _ was one of those non-human diet beverages, marketed in a black bottle and sold at a premium. It was leagues better than its competitors,  _ Thirst-B _ ,  _ Plasma _ , and the lowest of the tier,  _ Vital Squeeze _ . Yusuke had called the brand “tasteless and vulgar”, and yet he was living off of the stuff for years, never willing to splurge unless it was for a special occasion. 

“Would you warm me up a bottle? I’m feeling parched,” Yusuke mumbled as he applied a false eyelash to his left eye. 

“Get your own,” Ren tutted as he set the bottle in the microwave for fifteen seconds. “I paid for this by getting yelled at for adding soy milk to a latte. By a teenager.” He slammed the microwave door and startled himself and Yusuke, who had to reapply his lash. “Sorry.”

“I’ll pay your entry to the club. I hear they hire bodyguards from the patrons,” Yusuke hummed. “And dear, you’re a teenager yourself. In both retrospects.”

“Wh _ — _ bodyguard?” Ren scoffed. “I’m hardly a bodyguard.”

“Something about a myth about us being able to detect others of our kind,” Yusuke explained. “They even offered a position to Hifumi.”

“Hifumi?”

“Togo.”

“Yeah, I know, but  _ — Hifumi?”  _

“The pay is apparently very lucrative. I’m honestly shocked they haven’t approached me.”

Ren plucked his drink from the microwave and gave it a swirl, a generous sniff, and a small swig. It was synthetic and entirely harmless; the formula had been made with a few donors who generously signed on to have their blood replicated into their respective types or “flavors”. Because the stuff was made by humans, for vampires, it never really fully scratched the itch, but it got Ren by. 

“What type did you get?” Yusuke asked, holding out his hand for a taste.

Ren gave him the bottle with a roll of the eyes, keeping a careful eye on him to make sure he didn’t down the entire bottle. “AB. Same old.”

“Nn,” Yusuke winced at the taste, handing it back to Ren. Ren smirked, not only at how ridiculous his friend looked, but how his specialized “taste” ran the man up the walls. “Too sweet.”

“It has a bitter finish,” Ren defended it, examining the bottle. “It’s either this or coffee.”

“I’d rather have a coffee,” Yusuke grumbled. “Change out of that drab uniform and put something on. We’re finding you a bodyguard job.” 

“At the club.”

“You heard me.”

***

To a human, the flashing lights and pounding music would be enough to send the senses into turmoil. To a vampire, it was twice that, and yet the club itself was cleverly branded to attract the latter’s attention. In crimson neon outside the black-brick building, the club’s name, ‘Fang’, was painted in sharp cursive. The ‘g’ flickered ominously, adding the ambiance of the dark surroundings. Contained within red velvet stanchions were patrons, some young and underage, some old. They were partitioned off from the smaller and shorter queue, labeled with a gold plaque; ‘VAMPIRE LINE BEGINS HERE’. On the dark doors and on the signs overhead were notices to humans in particular:  _ No silver allowed beyond this point. _

Jelp had labeled the place an upscale dive, a meat market for those identifying as bloodletters. Reviewers had proclaimed “best spot in San Francisco to hook up with a vamp! They let in five humans for every vamp, so the ratio is amazing and the choices are great” and “decent spot for a fangbang. Ordered the Bloody Mary without getting ID’d and couldn’t get the taste of iron out of my mouth for a day, so they use the real stuff.” 

Ren was unsure of how Yusuke found it or  _ why _ after a shift at StarVucks he was here and not at home playing  _ Power Intuition _ while putting away a few more ABs like he had planned, but here he was nonetheless, dressed plainly in a black blazer, white button-down shirt, dark wash jeans and a pair of brown loafers. Yusuke’s expertly painted face was paired with a modest dark purple dress shirt and black slacks with shiny black oxfords. At first glance he might’ve been mistaken for a peacock.

Judging the crowd as they were let through the iron doors by the unimpressed bouncer, Ren sulked inwardly and kept his eyes away from the excited ten human patrons that bustled through. It was packed - the dance floor was a sea of people, heads bobbing to the ear-splitting music, lit by blue, violet, and magenta lights that spun overhead. The chances of Ren finding an employer here were going to be slim to none, he wagered, and nodded to Yusuke.

“I’m going to the bar,” he said.

_ “What?” _ Yusuke shouted back, narrowing his eyes.  _ “Sorry, Ren, the music—” _

_ “I’m going to the b—” _ Ren shook his head as Yusuke stared blankly back at him. “Go have fun,” he mouthed, pointing to the dance floor. “I’m getting a drink,” and pointed to the bar.

“Oh,” Yusuke mouthed in return, and nodded with a thumbs-up. In an instant, he disappeared into the floating mass of faces and bodies. 

Ren instantly felt a sinking sense of dread pit in his gut as he watched Yusuke fade away, feeling vulnerable and alone in the sea. Trying his best to shake himself of the feeling, he weaved through the crowd as best he could to find the bar. 

The smell of the place was overwhelming; the stench of fellow vampires hung like heavy potpourri in the air, spicy and bitter. Humans of all different scents invaded his senses with every breath in, suffocating him as he passed by each dancing horde. One smelled ripe with cigarettes and musk, another cloyingly sweet with sugar, like buttercream icing on a cake. A particularly obnoxious one smelled of steak and charred meat, smoke and ash. 

As Ren approached the neon cyan lights signifying the bar and found an open seat towards the end, he caught a familiar scent that he was unable to shake the yearning of for the past thirteen years.

Pancakes. Buttery and soft, light and airy, sticky with maple syrup.

Ren’s mouth watered as he searched for the origin, almost expecting a young child with the familiar brown mess of hair, blood soaking his small palms and a sense of dread in his eyes. He shook off the mental image and faced the bartender, who eyed him up and down like his next meal.

“What’s your type?”

“AB,” Ren replied. “Served hot, please.” 

“Like I’d give it to you straight outta the fridge,” the bartender snorted, and turned away. 

The music was quieter here, though the chatter was louder. Humans crowded the bar in clumps, some keeping clear of the other obvious vampires who sat at stools, slumped over. Some huddled around them, chatting and laughing loudly as vampires threatened a nibble. Another bartender shouted,  _ “Take it outside! No free meals here!” _

Ren surveyed the right side of the bar to see a similar sight repeated over and over for about thirty feet. The bar was staffed by around 5 bartenders, each working in tandem to appease the growing crowd of customers. Just from mannerisms, Ren could tell they were 90% human, just as the ratio had promised, 1:10. What humans likely didn’t realize was that to a vampire, it was the middle of the day, around afternoon. Many were probably just trying to get a free meal out of anyone willing to go to the alley, save their paycheck for their preferred type of  _ True-O _ , and leave. Maybe even catch a hook-up. Current laws and police watch didn’t leave time for a full drain, so parties like these were desirable. Grab a group, find a hotel room, and get to work.

On the left side of the bar, closest to the wall and the restroom, was a similar sight. A few clumps of humans and vampires, and a few humans paired together, enjoying drinks and smoking joints, blowing their smoke outside a cracked emergency exit door. The cold autumn air was brisk against Ren’s nape, but he supposed for a human in the hot, muggy climate of the club, it was refreshing.

One human caught Ren’s eye. How could he not? He stood out like a sore thumb. Sleek and smooth, fussed auburn hair, fair skin… his attire completely contrasted the rest of the patrons. A simple white dress shirt, a loosened skinny black tie that hung loose around the collar, black slacks, and simple black dress shoes. He looked as if he’d just gotten off shift as a waiter at an upscale steakhouse; not walked into a vampire bar and ordered a fruity looking drink, garnished with pineapple. 

The chatter was momentarily deafened and the man looked up from his phone to spot Ren staring back at him. He smiled cordially, nodded, and turned back to his drink. The bartender caught Ren’s attention by placing a napkin and a bottle of  _ True-O _ down in front of him. 

“Need something to chase that with?” The bartender asked, gesturing to the back wall of the bar. “Some like to follow up AB with whiskey…”

“This is fine, thanks,” Ren nodded, looking back to the man. His vision had already been obscured by a larger man’s back.

“Expensive taste. Not many people order it,” the bartender continued, leaning in. Vampire, by the smell. An older one. Not older than Yusuke, but carrying that familiar, sweet scent all vampires seemed to possess. Like sweet apples or rose petals. Yusuke theorized it drew humans in, it was developed over time and grew stronger as vampires thrived, but Ren chalked it up to a side-effect of the condition. “Too sweet.”

“It has a bitter finish,” Ren mumbled, as if it were second-nature. “Like coffee.”

“Sure, whatever you think,” the bartender hummed. “I’ll stick to O.” 

_ Boring _ , Ren thought. If he wanted to taste white bread, he’d toast a slice himself. It was the most common type and therefore the most popular, the most versatile. Ren swore that if he had a nickel for every time he saw type O mixed in recipes online, he’d have enough cash to buy  _ True-O _ for the rest of his immortal life. It was the type that gave  _ True-O _ its favored name and reputation as the best tasting synthetic on the market. 

Ren raised the bottle to his mouth, taking in the sweet vapors from the neck and allowing his fangs to protrude before taking a sip. He savored in the temperature; a steady 99 degrees he’d wager, a little too hot for him, but fine enough as he worked his way through the bottle. The flavor, steadfast and unchanging, danced along his tongue and quenched the thirst he hadn’t known he still had after Yusuke whisked him away. 

He licked his lips and turned back to see if the large back had moved, and sure enough, it had. The strange young man was turned away from his drink, hand over his right ear as he spoke into his smartphone. The large man hung around, though, sipping from a regular beer bottle and keeping an eye on his companion. The young man said a few words to the large man and side-stepped to the emergency exit, phone still in hand. 

The larger man locked eyes with Ren and won a quick impromptu staring contest, casting Ren’s eyes away, if only slightly. He looked around the bar, looked for the bartender, and dug into his cargo pant pocket, producing a small vial of white powder. Before Ren could blink, it was dumped into the young man’s drink.

A fierce fire ignited in Ren’s gut, spurring him into action. He stood up before he could think straight, shoving past a few vampire groupies to get to the larger man. Ignoring their gasps and yelps of complaint, Ren swallowed hard before he barked, “Hey!”

The man sluggishly turned around, eyeing Ren. “Hnn—” 

“Excuse me,” Ren glowered. “I think you need to back off.”

“Oh? You do, do you?” The man squared up to Ren, standing up straight and puffing out his chest. He was easily twice Ren’s size, though that didn’t matter. Vampirism had its benefits when it came to strength. He just didn’t want to cause a scene. “You should mind your business, yeah?”

Ren’s fury spiked to a fiery peak. Whether it was the repeated attempt to stop him from confronting evil head on or the building frustration of dealing with needy customers that day, Ren was through with being amicable. With a swift throw, Ren whipped the drink onto the floor, shattering the glass and splattering it on both of their pants. A small group of women shrieked in surprise, scuttling to the edge of the wall. Ren’s bartender hissed and yelled,  _ “Take it outside!” _

“Yeah,” Ren spat, tone venomous. “I think we will.”

***

The larger man had the immediate advantage as they crossed the brisk threshold into the brick alleyway, swinging a thick fist towards Ren’s face with a sluggish speed. It was easily dodged. Too easy with Ren’s speed. While he had his face open, Ren sent an uppercut straight for the man’s chin. A small yelp confirmed he’d bitten his tongue. 

“You motherfucker _ —” _

Ren watched as the man shook off the blow, spitting onto the pavement as he readied up his next move. Again, another fist towards his face, which Ren slipped through. Instead, Ren grabbed the man’s wrist, and with his superhuman strength, bent the appendage the opposite direction behind his back until he heard him gasp. 

“Hey _ —” _

Ren relented, stepping back as the man clutched at his wrist, gasping for air as he sunk down to his knees. He waited patiently, breaths staggered as anger still filled his every pulse of the man’s heart. 

“You think that’s alright?” Ren demanded, waiting for an answer that didn’t come as quickly as he’d like. His foot arched back and swung forward in a kick aimed straight for the man’s gut. He choked on his own spit, gasping loudly. “Preying on people, just because you’re bigger? Stronger?”

_ “Stop—!!”  _ The man cried.  _ “It’s not what you think…” _

Ren kicked him again, same location. The man attempted a yell, but the sound was caught in his throat. He sank to all fours, knees and elbows shaking. With an effortless kick, Ren shoved the man to the floor fully with a thrust to his ribs. 

“You’re cocky, thinking you could get away with that,” Ren spoke, his anger fading as a righteous justice filled him, watching the bulky man paw for the pavement beneath him, trying to scoot away as he strained for air. “And you’re scum. You know what I do with scum?”

He set his foot on top of the man’s wide belly, turning the man to lie on his back so he could face Ren completely. With his hands effortlessly hung in his pockets, Ren set his foot to the man’s genitals, pressing lightly, enough to threaten. 

“I make sure it can’t multiply.”

_ “A-Ah,” _ the man gasped, his eyes widening quickly, his voice returning as he scrambled to hold Ren’s ankle. _ “No, plea— A-Ah, A-Akechi!!” _

His scream crescendoed as Ren dug his heel in for a short pulse, echoing off the brick walls and dying out into the city air. He faded in with the music, but his pleas were clear within the alley.

_ “Stop! Make him stop! Akechi!” _ The man called out, nails digging into Ren’s leg.  _ “A-Akechi!!!” _

“Thank you,” a voice hummed from the other end of the alley. “That will do.”

Ren lifted his heel and turned swiftly to the origin of the sound. The man immediately crawled out from under him, clutching his manhood in a painful claw as he gasped, tears streaming down his wide cheeks. 

The young man from the bar stepped into the dim light of the alley from behind a dumpster, a smile plain on his face. He slid his phone into his back pocket as he approached them calmly and without hurry. He appeared pleased, though this pleasure was different from the cordial nod he had given Ren moments before. 

“This wasn’t part of our deal,” the downed man complained. “And you just stood there.”

He nodded to the man plainly, gesturing to the street with an open palm. “I’ll be sure the money is wired to your account before noon tomorrow. Thank you. You may go.”

“Money,” Ren whispered, confusion replacing all sense of justice he may have welled up from the encounter. “Wh…”

The larger man struggled to his feet, hugging the wall as he regained his balance and wiped the blood and spit from his chin. Without another word, he limped out of the alley and around the corner. As Ren watched him hobble, he heard the younger man speak once more.

“Impressive work, I might say.”

Ren spun to see the man had drew closer, though he kept a distance of six feet. A stinging pain filled Ren’s head. He squinted through it, noting the man had donned a slender, silver bracelet. 

“He tried to drug your drink,” Ren explained, his tone muddled. “I tried to stop him.”

“Yes,” the man affirmed. “And you succeeded. Beautifully.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“I quite liked that bit about calling him scum and… what was it? Ceasing its ability to  _ — _ ”

“Multiply,” they said together in tandem. The man chuckled a light laugh and stepped closer, soft brown eyes looking over Ren’s appearance. Something about the man’s face was eerily familiar.

“Ah. Where are my manners? My name is Goro Akechi.”

Goro Akechi… 

Goro Akechi.

Ren recalled the eloquent speeches of a bigot softly airing within the empty cafe where he worked from the TVs in the corner, disregarding vampire lives and rights, condemning their habits and warning those who wished to lump themselves in with them. He remembered Yusuke being appalled by the man and his behavior, going on and on about ‘that Akechi fellow’ and how his latest book was still on the bestseller list, even half a year later. 

Goro Akechi, the man who publicly despised vampires with every fiber of his being, famed for his looks and charm, stood before him now, examining him, and extending a gloved hand for Ren to shake.

His gaze flickered between Akechi’s hand and his gaze, doubtful. “Pleasure to meet you,” Ren muttered, tone flat. 

“No doubt you must have figured out by now who I am,” he sighed happily, dropping his hand and letting it swing easily by his side. “And how much of a risk it was for me to be here tonight.”

Ren paused and took a moment to compose himself, straightening out his shirt. “Was that a test?”

“Very perceptive,” Akechi praised, and took a step closer, now only a couple of feet away. The ringing in Ren’s ears grew stronger, rattling his head. He winced visibly. “Yes. And you passed. You see, a man in my particular line of work comes across a lot of dangers whether it be from vampire groupies,” his cordial tone turned venomous there, “or from vampires themselves. And as you’re probably experiencing, silver can only help so much, doesn’t it?”

A soft breeze dipped into the alleyway, picking up strands of Akechi’s hair and sending them floating on the wind, carrying his scent. Ren inhaled as he instinctively took a step backward, his back landing against the metal door to the club and slamming it shut, locking them both outside.

The scent of Akechi took Ren back thirteen years to that very scene. Soft and light, such a contrast to this man’s aura. It felt absolutely lethal. And yet, Ren’s mouth watered despite his quenched thirst. He palmed the brick wall behind him, nails digging into their porous surface. His fangs began to creep out of their hiding spot, every inch of him yearning, begging for a taste.

Ren attempted to compose himself, though he was helpless. Being cornered and suffocated by silver certainly wasn’t helping. Holding his breath, Ren’s lips parted to speak, though his voice was choked, forced: “...And I take it you need an insider?”

“Yes,” Akechi whispered, tone intimate. His body shifted to stand mere feet away from Ren, his bangled wrist inches away from his face, pinning him into place. “A loyal one. Hence my little experiment, which you threw yourself into the moment you confronted that man over my ‘drink’.” His dark brown eyes scanned Ren’s body carefully, as if searching for a hidden threat. “And I might admit, your strength is quite a plus.”

“Sounds like your mind’s made up,” muttered Ren, matching his volume. His cheek was beginning to burn.

“And your’s isn’t?”

“Just seems risky to hire a man from the crowd at a vampire bar,” he said plainly, taking in a shaky breath. His fangs threatened to bare themselves, his throat suddenly raw with a primal thirst. He could smell sweet alcohol on Akechi’s breath. “I have some friends who might burn me at the stake if they found out I was working for you.”

“Mmm,” Akechi hummed, averting his gaze slightly. “I see.”

Ren’s eyes darted to the street, where a small crowd of drunken patrons stumbled along together, chattering loudly. His gaze flickered back to Akechi’s silver bangle, a feverish feeling settling into Ren’s thoughts and a cold sweat budding on the back of his neck. 

“Could you  _ please… _ ?” Ren whispered, his voice slightly pitiful, begging. “I can’t think.”

“Oh,” Akechi’s attention was brought back to Ren in an instant. He relented, stepping back so that they were an acceptable distance. He wobbled slightly, Ren noticed. His cheeks were flushed, though Ren couldn’t determine if it were from the exchange or from the alcohol in his system. “That potent, huh? Well, regardless, I’m also looking for an escort and I’m willing to pay handsomely.”

Ren raised a brow, his mouth slightly agape as his fangs immediately retracted. “... An escort?”

“To guard me and stand by my side,” Akechi snorted, his smirk turning into a sneer. “Please, don’t flatter yourself. The term ‘escort’ is much older than that obscene use.”

“I wasn’t, I was just going to negotiate a higher pay if  _ that’s  _ what you wanted.”

Akechi raised his eyebrows, expectant. It seemed he ignored Ren’s attempt at a light-hearted joke.

“Ren,” Ren mumbled, as he raised his hand to rub at his burning cheek, as if it would cause the irritation to go away. “My name’s Ren Amamiya.”

“Mr. Ren,” Akechi sighed pleasantly. “A pleasure. I’m willing to offer two thousand dollars to accompany me on my next interview with  _ Bloodthirsty  _ Magazine.”

Ren swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. “Three thousand.”

Akechi’s expression hardened, though his eyes remained unchanged, fascinated. He crossed his arms, leaning onto one leg. “Two-thousand five hundred. Don’t get cocky.” 

Ren extended his hand, pocketing his other. Akechi’s entire demeanor relaxed, and raised his hand to firmly clasp Ren’s hand in his, giving it a curt shake.

“It’s a deal, then.”

* * *


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren anticipates Akechi's call, wrestles with the daily life of struggling to make rent payments, and meets an unexpected companion.

Ren’s eyes were beginning to burn from the glare of his laptop screen. He kept telling himself he’d go to bed after just  _ one _ more article, but his morbid fascination would take over as more related headlines popped up on his screen:

_ Sterkeley Honors Student Releases Book Against Vampire Rights _

_ Undergrad Student Becomes Youngest New York Times Bestseller in Sterkeley History _

_ One on One with Goro Akechi: Activist for Anti-Vampire Legislature  _

What had gotten into this man’s head to request the employ of a vampire to guard against vampires themselves? Had he read too many forums that speculated a vampire’s true powers? While they had superhuman strength and heightened predatory senses, they had a great number of weaknesses, too. Some of which he’d speculated correctly - Ren’s cheek was still burning from the close proximity of Akechi’s silver bangle. 

And still, it seemed a popular rumor that vampires were able to sense each other like dots on a radar. Ren knew this to be entirely untrue. All vampires, to an extent, possessed a similar smell that was a dead giveaway - a strangely sweet musk that reminded Ren of old potpourri and fresh rose petals. They could try and mask it all they like with perfumes and colognes, but in the end, they all smelled like musty funeral homes. This scent was only perceivable by vampires, strangely - some hypothesized it was a sort of pheromone or hormone, others theorized it was only perceivable because of the heightened sense of smell, and some chalked it up to just being a side-effect of the vampire virus itself. 

Whatever Akechi’s reasons were for employing Ren, he was skeptical, but not scared enough to back out. In another tab in Ren’s browser was a spreadsheet Makoto had helped him assemble detailing the number of expenses. For Ren and Yusuke, it was a few simple categories; rent, utilities, transportation, and synthetic blood. There was another category labeled with neon pink, one he dreaded, titled ‘Miscellaneous Expenses’. Yusuke authored most of that column, and beside each expense required a note. Ren ignored the most recent addition of a few hundred dollars and tabbed back to his search engine, typing in ‘ Goro Akechi anti-vamp' .

As if summoned by the devil, his apartment door opened with a signature loud creak. Ren’s pressing migraine as dawn neared reminded him he’d have to get that fixed.

“Are you still up?”

Ren turned his head to the right to see Yusuke ambling in, a red-tagged 6-pack of the synthetic  _ Vital Squeeze _ in hand. The obnoxious branding proclaimed in neon yellow text it was type ‘B’. His makeup still looked impeccable, if not a bit smudged around the eyes. Somewhere along the line, he’d lost a fake eyelash. Ren looked him over to see it was hanging on the collar of his shirt. 

“I’ll let you take a guess,” Ren mumbled, turning back to his laptop and clicking the first result. “Did you have fun?”

“It was spectacular,” Yusuke began, locking the door behind him and moving to open a bottle of cheap synthetic blood. “I met a few new friends who are also interested in postmodern art, and…”

Yusuke’s recap of the night faded to the background hum of the apartment as Ren’s eyes grabbed hold of a particular quote. His throat began to feel tight and his shoulders tensed as he leaned in, bringing the screen closer to his face, illuminating him in a harsh blue glow. 

_ ‘Akechi’s ideals for the modern world are not as harsh as some involved in more traditional cities, though he hesitates to call himself inclusive of the introduction of vampires. _

_ “Let us not be mistaken for what they are,” Akechi says, “vampires are historically murderers who walk among us humans. They are predators of the human species, who have developed superior strength and speed that have the power to destroy humanity if they so choose, and us believing otherwise will be detrimental to our society and the safety of others. Obviously, not all vampires would do this, however, there has been a notable increase of vampires who have reverted to their primal instincts, which could pose a great threat to us if unchecked. I believe it is in our best interest to begin surveilling vampires and these troubling behaviors...” _

_ All _ vampires? Was the prejudice in his words obvious to others? What was his true vision of what vampires were like? Where had it become so twisted in the first place?

While it was true there was a small, if not microscopic, the population of vampires that lived off of pure human blood, for hundreds if not thousands of years, those afflicted with vampirism and a weak heart had opted for the alternative; animal blood. Synthetic blood was the savior to the vampire population - they could finally live in peace without harming anyone or anything. Worries of suffering and pain could be put to rest, for a price. And as far as taste? Synthetic certainly didn’t tick  _ all  _ the boxes, but it was becoming more widely available and a more favorable option compared to harvested blood. 

Akechi’s opinions were not only outdated, they were ignorant and generalized. While it was true in a few cases that a few bad apples spoil the bunch—

“Ren,” Yusuke asked. “Are you listening?”

“Huh?” Ren blurted out, his head snapping up from his laptop. His vision blurred, his eyes beginning to feel as if they’d been rinsed with saltwater. He winced and rubbed at his eyes, yawning softly. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“I was asking if  _ you _ had a good night,” Yusuke said, voice slightly concerned. 

“It was… eventful.”

“I didn’t see you at the bar, I had tried to call for you,” Yusuke sat in the loveseat adjacent to Ren’s armchair, thumbs worrying over the neck of his bottle. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice caught in his throat and he lowered his head, instead. Finally, he uttered, “did an opportunity present itself?”

Ren nodded once and closed the laptop in front of him, setting it on the coffee table. “It did.”

“Sexual or otherwise?” Yusuke asked cautiously.

Ren smiled, despite his discomfort. “Otherwise.”

“Hell,” Yusuke tutted. “Are you going to tell me or shall I press you until the sun rises?” 

“I got offered a bodyguard position,” Ren mumbled. “I don’t know if I should go through with it.”

Yusuke tried to contain his excitement as best he could. He sat up as straight as a pin in his seat, eyes practically sparkling with happiness. “Oh— why not? Is it unsafe?”

“Well, not only that but,” Ren bit his lip. “It’s for Goro Akechi.”

“Goro—” Yusuke’s brow furrowed as he paused for a second and slumped, gathering his thoughts. “Goro Akechi. That anti-vampire bigot parading himself around on social media?” Yusuke straightened again and shook his head. “No. Ren, you mustn't support him. He’s going against everything vampirekind has worked towards. And I’m assuming it’s for his book, yes? That filth? You know, anyone with a pen and paper and half a brain can write a book—”

“He said he’d pay me twenty-five hundred for one day,” Ren spoke over Yusuke stopping him in his tracks. “I… already shook on it.”

Yusuke paused again, this time the silence was calculated, his gaze hardening. Ren swallowed hard and hung his head down to his chest, rubbing his neck.

“It’s just to make sure he doesn’t get jumped or drugged during an interview with  _ Bloodthirsty _ ,” Ren explained. “After that, he’ll wire the money. I just figured since we’re behind on rent—”

“No, no, no,” Yusuke hurried, raising his left thumb to his lips. “I think this will do. It’s just for an interview, correct? For heaven’s sake, I didn’t realize college students nowadays had so much money… And no one will know. You’re plain-looking enough that I doubt anyone will recognize you…”

Ren’s head snapped up, his gaze affixed in a glare directed at Yusuke. “Hey—”

“This will do, I think,” Yusuke praised, a small smile creeping onto his features. “Yes. I mean, you already shook on it, so it’s a gentleman’s agreement. No going back. And it’s just for one day, not even. A quarter of a day. For twenty-five hundred dollars…” Yusuke seemed to be dreaming aloud, his voice growing happier by the second. “My, imagine the paints that money could buy.”

“It’ll fund rent,” Ren cut in, snapping Yusuke out of his daydream. Ren stood to his feet, waving Yusuke off the sofa so he could prep it to sleep. “And food. I’m not drinking  _ Vital Squeeze _ for months on end again. I’d rather suck the plasma from a sewer.”

“I’m in the middle of a bottle _ —!” _ Yusuke complained. “And the sell-by date was today, so I negotiated a lower price. You should be thanking me.”

“Go to bed,” Ren begged. “I’ve gotta go into work early and cover for Mishima.” 

***

“Excuse me, I asked for fat-free milk, but this clearly tastes like whole milk.”

The store was scheduled to close in an hour, and Ren was out front to witness the carnage unfold as a woman in her mid-thirties raised hell over her drink. Ryuji, his close friend and coworker, withheld his rage as best he could, though his tension was clear in his shoulders.

“Ma’am, I’m tellin’ ya, I used fat-free—” Ryuji began, his tone steady. 

“Ma’am?” The woman cut him off, waving a ringed finger in his direction. “I’m not a ma’am!”

“Miss,” Ryuji tried again. “It’s the right drink, I can make it for you again—”

“It doesn’t matter! I want a refund,” she demanded. “Honestly, there’s no one else in here except for me and you can’t even make a drink correctly.”

Ryuji’s face was turning red. Ren locked eyes with him and his hands tightened around the mop in his hands. Ren shook his head quickly, a silent plea to Ryuji to keep his cool. Ryuji’s mouth formed a deep pout as he took the drink back and emptied it into the sink. 

“Miss, he’ll make you another for free,” Ren spoke up as he wrung out his mop into the bucket. “I can’t give you a refund, but I could offer up one of our bakery items? We’re going to toss them anyway, and they’re perfectly fine—”

“So, you give me shitty coffee and stale pastries?” The woman turned to Ren to face him, her sandy blond ponytail spinning with her and falling at her shoulders. She was just coming back from a fitness class, a yoga mat slung around her shoulders with an obnoxiously loud purse (He could hear Yusuke mock dry-heaving in the back of his mind) and workout clothes. Her tank top was neon pink, and in bold chartreuse letters it read ‘ **EVERYTHING HURTS** ’. 

Ren felt more kinship with the woman’s tank top than any meaningful relationship he’d ever had in the past thirteen years. He shrugged plainly and slapped the mop onto the floor, splashing some water droplets onto her flashy sneakers. 

“Take it or leave it,” Ren said. “But I can’t give you a refund.”

The woman huffed sharply and turned back to Ryuji, arms crossed. “I’ll take a butter croissant, then. And warm it up, too.”

Ryuji hummed an affirmation and turned back to the coffee bar, diligently remaking the beverage as asked. Before long the woman was handed her beverage and warmed croissant with a smarmy _ ‘have a great night’ _ . The only trouble being, she walked right through Ren’s clean floor on her way out, making sure to rub her soles into the shiny tile. 

“What a friggin’ bitch,” Ryuji spat as soon as the door was shut. His tone quickly changed and his face lit up as he leaned across the counter to Ren. “Hey — guess what?”

“She walked on my wet floor,” Ren grumbled, eyeing the dirt and sand residue. “Where the hell was she working out? The beach?”

“Whatever man, don’t worry about that — so y’know how she was raisin’ a stink on that fat-free shit? I gave her  _ whole milk _ .” 

Ren chuckled once as he wheeled the bright yellow bucket over to the crime scene. “And she tasted it, yeah?”

Ryuji sputtered a laugh. “Yeah - she was like ‘finally, some decent coffee’. No wonder it tasted better, Debbie, it had all the fat!” He leaned back on the other side of the bar, fussing with his nametag. “Hey — speaking of, which pastries are we throwing out? Think we can take some home?”

“Yeah, of course, that was the whole point. Mishima was supposed to throw them out last night but he didn’t and didn’t relay it to the openers, so everyone’s been eating stale stuff all day.” Ren quickly made work of the mess as Ryuji eyed the pastry case. Ren moved the mop and bucket to the back, following Ryuji’s gaze. “Think you could tell the difference?”

“Man, I wouldn’t eat some of this stuff on a dare, are you kiddin’ me?” Ryuji muttered, plucking a cookie from the rack and ripping off the wrapper. “How’re we doin’ on time, boss?”

“Another half-hour,” Ren replied, grabbing one for himself. Ryuji opted for the sugar cookie while Ren took a chocolate chunk. “Since it’s been slow we should be out of here early. All that’s left is the usual and then prepping the cold brew and oatmeal.”

“Gross, you take oatmeal,” Ryuji grumbled, mouth full. “I hate that stuff.”

“Fine, then you count the till,” Ren snorted. Ryuji groaned and rolled his head back. “I thought so.”

“Please, I’ll do oatmeal if I don’t have to count all that stupid shit,” Ryuji pleaded. “Ren,  _ please _ ,”

“It’s fine,” Ren laughed, talking over him. “I wouldn’t trust you with it anyway. If you haven’t learned how to do it in the nine months you’ve been here, you won’t learn tonight.”

Ryuji huffed. “I have such a kind and supportive boss.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’m takin’ home the cake pops,” Ryuji said. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to sleep after this abuse.”

Ren knew the cake pops were Yusuke’s favorite, and he’d probably wonder about their absence tonight when he came home with a tote bag full of sweets, but Ren nodded anyway and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ryuji,” Ren said and took a bite from his cookie as he moved to the back, grabbing the fresh box of pre-packaged bakery items. 

Ryuji’s eyes were hovering on him, and his lips were parted as if he were about to ask something, but, for once, thought better. Ren looked at him above his thick-framed glasses, observing him for a moment, and then pushed them up on the bridge of his nose, returning to his work. 

“What’s up?” Ren asked around another bite of cookie.

“It’s nothing,” Ryuji quickly replied.

“No, what’s up?” Ren pressed. “Something on my face?”

“It’s just—” Ryuji’s brows furrowed and he faced Ren head-on, his posture tense. “Do vampires… y’know…”

Ren’s right eyebrow raised, and he stopped chewing. Ryuji’s face began to burn up, turning flush. 

“Shit?”

“Ah.”

Ren snorted out a laugh, almost choking on his cookie. He coughed, though his laughter only got stronger, and rushed to grab his thermos full of water to save himself. Ryuji’s deadpan face only sent him further into hysterics. 

“You don’t have to effing laugh so hard!” Ryuji spat. “It’s an honest question! Do vampires take dumps?!”

“I know!” Ren sputtered, clearing his throat after another hearty drink. “I know, I know. Uh— yeah, we do.”

“You do?”

“It’s just for food though, if I have any,” Ren explained, unable to censor his grin from Ryuji. “So, it’s not that often.” 

“So you don’t shit…” Ryuji began to scratch the back of his neck. “... blood?”

“No,” Ren bit his lip to avoid laughing again, though his chest began to shake as he choked them back. “It’s absorbed into our bloodstream. Yusuke explained the specifics to me once but… I forget.” 

“Why not eat instead of drinking blood, though?” Ryuji asked.

“Because it’s not enough,” Ren continued. “It’s like if you lived off of celery or cucumbers. The amount of energy it takes to eat doesn’t equal the amount it takes to survive… or, something like that. And it doesn’t  _ really  _ satisfy the craving.”

“Craving?” Ryuji echoed. 

“Yeah, like you know how if you’re really hungry and you try to drink water to fill your stomach?” 

Ryuji’s face distorted into an expression of pure confusion and he slowly shook his head. Ren hummed, trying to think.

“Or like when you want something specific from this one place, but it’s not available anymore or it’s too far away, and eating something similar doesn’t really scratch the itch?”

“Oh yeah,” Ryuji nodded. “Dude… that’s miserable.”

“That last one’s kinda more similar to animal blood, though,” Ren said after a short pause. “It’s why so many turned to human blood, even with the risk of being found out. It just doesn’t taste the same — and not in a good way.”

Ryuji squirmed in his spot, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“What’s it… uh, taste like?”

Ren glanced at the clock, noticing they had five minutes until the store closed. He breathed an inward sigh of relief. “Uh, best way I could describe without you throwing up? It’s like diet soda.”

Ryuji balked. “It’s carbonated?”

“No, stupid,” Ren laughed. “It’s like. It doesn’t taste right. It’s similar, but it’s like something’s off.” He pointed to the containers of milk at the bar. “Like fat-free and whole milk.”

Before Ryuji could ask more questions, the door to the shop opened, and thankfully, it was friendly faces. Ann Takamaki, Shiho Suzui, and Haru Okumura, Ryuji and Ren’s good friends. They were dressed casually and comfortably, though Ann had her own stylish flair, one Yusuke probably would have fawned over if he were here.

“Yoohoo,” Ann sang out as she held the door open for Haru and Shiho. “Mind if we sneak one last order in before you close?”

“What the hell?” Ryuji scoffed, marching from behind the bar to stop them in their tracks. “No! Get the eff out!”

“Oh, c’mon,” Ann huffed. “We’ve been up since dawn studying for GREs and we really need the energy boost.”

“GREs?” Ren asked. “Oh, for graduate school. How’s that going?”

“Haru’s been working us hard,” Shiho spoke up, smiling shyly. “We thought we’d treat her to a drink.”

“No, no,” Haru shook her head. “Please, my treat. It’ll make up for cracking the whip on you both this afternoon.”

“And you didn’t wanna,  _ y’know _ , go to a  _ bar _ ?” Ryuji asked. “Instead of holding us up from closing?”

“Just work around us!” Ann argued. “We’ll stick to one corner and we’ll help close up when we’re done.”

Ren walked over to pat Ryuji’s shoulder, giving the three ladies a kind smile. “Well, we are still open, so we’ve got to treat our customers with respect, right Ryuji?”

“These three know exactly what they’re doing,” Ryuji huffed, shrugging off Ren’s hand and moping back behind the counter. He picked up a cup and a sharpie, rolling his neck. “Whaddya want, Ann?”

Ann smiled victoriously and leaned on the granite, looking over the menu and humming loudly. “ _So_ _many_ choices…”

“Ugh,” Ryuji groaned. “You’re just gonna order the same damn thing you always order.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll have to think a  _ little  _ longer…” Ann said in a sing-song tone. “Should I get a caramel cream cookie frappuccino?” 

Ryuji complained louder, hanging his head back. “Just let Shiho and Haru go first!”

Haru stepped forward to Ren, smiling at Ryuji and Ann’s exchange. “I’ll have the Emperor’s Clouds Tea, please.”

“What size?”

“A medium size is fine.”

Haru never knew the pretentious sizes that StarVucks pressed on them, and that worked fine for Ren. She probably had more enjoyable teas at home to enjoy, anyway. Her father worked overseas in Korea as the owner, founder, and CEO of a Japanese-fusion snack foods company and Haru often brought back spoils, knowing Ren often missed the flavors of his original home.

Haru was actually the most unique in the room, and while Shiho was left out of the loop, everyone else knew she was a vampire as well, but raised by her mother to be a witch. They were incredibly rare and uncommon, possessing the ability to cast spells and hexes, craft potions for all sorts of maladies. She even had a familiar, which took the physical form of a ring-necked dove named Madeline. Ren had only seen pictures but knew how much Haru adored her and her companionship. Because of Madeline’s regal and fussy nature, Haru even took to nicknaming her ‘Milady’. 

While getting the boiling water ready for Haru’s tea, she waved Ren over again, adjusting the large tote bag on her shoulder.

“I have a favor to ask of you, once Shiho goes,” she whispered to Ren. “She’s going to leave after she gets her drink since she’s tired.”

Ren paused, his eyes shifting to Haru’s tote. Something in it moved.

“Uhh.”

“Oh,” Haru’s eyes followed Ren’s and she gave the bag a gentle pat. “It’s nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“Milady taking a trip out?” Ren asked after a short pause, moving to pour the water into her cup. “It’s fine if you have her out, y’know.”

“No, no, she’s staying in tonight,” Haru beamed, delighted Ren remembered. “You don’t have any granola I could bring back for her, do you?”

Ren nodded. “We’re actually about to dump a whole bunch of bakery items, so it’s good timing. Take as much as you want.”

“Dump?” Ann’s head whipped in Ren’s direction, her eyes lighting up and sparkling bright. “Bakery items? Why?”

“They’re like, a day past expiration,” Ren explained as he secured a lid to Haru’s drink, sliding it towards her. “Which doesn’t look good for selling. It was Mishima’s fault, so they’ve gotta go.”

Ann straightened up and clapped once. “Well, we’ll take them!”

“Who said you could have ‘em?” Ryuji scoffed. “You’re gonna have to pay for ‘em.”

“That’s a load of bull!” Ann snapped back at Ryuji. “They’re going to get thrown out anyway!”

Ren smiled easily. “I kind of promised Ryuji a few, but it’s not like he needs the whole display. You guys can pick out what you want after I take inventory.”

“And you’ll include the cookies you ate?” Haru asked with a sly smile. Ren and Ryuji looked at each other, momentarily flustered and confused.

“How did you—?”

“You have chocolate on your face,” Ann stated, pointing to Ren. “And you have icing on your chin,” she continued, pointing to Ryuji. “Honestly, if your manager were here —”

“I  _ am  _ the manager,” Ren reminded her. “Well.  _ Night  _ manager.” He glanced at Ryuji as he wiped his face, scowling. “I asked if I had something on my face earlier.”

“If the  _ owner  _ were here,” Ann stressed.

“Well, he’s not!” Ryuji huffed. “And he still hasn’t realized the CCTV’s broken, so, eff that stupid idiot.” Ryuji shrunk under Ren’s gaze. “And uh... I didn’t see it. Thought it was a freckle.”

Haru swallowed a laugh. “You didn’t see it or you thought it was a freckle.”

Ryuji’s face was bright red now, his ears a burning scarlet. “Gimme a goddamn break!”

“Shiho, do you know what you’d like?” Ren asked, trying to change the subject. 

She was lazily looking at the baked good case, dark circles heavy under her eyes, and her mouth fixed in a loose smile. At Ren’s question, she snapped awake and yawned, hiding her mouth with a cupped palm.

“Sorry,” she apologized softly. Ann shuffled back and rubbed her friend’s back, eyes worried. “Uh, something decaf, since I should sleep,”

“Their chamomile and honey tea is quite nice,” Haru suggested.

“Or their hot chocolate. I like to get mine with caramel and whipped cream,” Ann said.

Ryuji grimaced. “How’s this chick not got a fake set of teeth? Sounds like an instant cavity.”

“Yeah,” Shiho nodded to Haru. “Tea does sound good. Can I get it with milk?”

“I can make it a latte,” Ren smiled politely and turned back to the machines to prepare the beverage. “Ryuji - make what Ann wants.”

“She still hasn’t decided!” 

“Actually, I have, you just weren’t listening,” Ann snapped, pointing to the large promotional banner just to the side of the register. “A pumpkin spice latte, please.”

“Oh,” Ryuji looked at the banner, squinting. “Ren, since when was it pumpkin spice season?”

Ren snorted. “Since Labor Day. What planet have you been living on?”

“I don’t think I’ve made any this week,” Ryuji mumbled and got a large cup ready. He sounded genuinely confused. “Or this month.”

“How…” Ren thought aloud, voice trailing off with the loud screaming of the milk foamer. Once it subsided, he tried to think back to all the orders he’d had, and couldn’t remember a ton of orders for pumpkin spice - at least not after dark. “Have we just disassociated this whole month, or?”

“Nah, man,” Ryuji muttered, looking over his shoulder to see Ann, Shiho, and Haru picking out baked goods to take home with them. He briefly shouted not to take home all the cake pops, and Ann stuck out her tongue and grabbed all but three. “Shit. Maybe it’s not popular anymore?”

“We can only hope,” Ren replied. “Shiho,” he called and slid the drink across the counter. 

“Thanks, Ren.”

“My pleasure.”

“If it’s okay, I’m going to take the train home,” Shiho told the other girls, smiling sheepishly. “I feel like I’m going to fall asleep if I sit down again.”

“Nonsense,” Haru chided, getting her phone. “I’ll have one of the company cars drive you home.”

“Haru, no,” Shiho begged. “I’ll be alright.”

“It’s really no trouble, they’re stationed around the city for this very purpose,” Haru insisted. “Please, don’t make me worry.”

“But it’s alright if I take BART at midnight?” Ryuji mumbled.

“You’re a tough-looking guy,” Ann hissed. “For a girl, it’s different. Besides, only shady people and vampires ride BART that late, and they’re not always mutually exclusive,” she shrunk slightly, looking at Ren. “No offense.”

Ren shrugged. “None taken.”

While Shiho and Ann discussed the logistics of studying tomorrow, Haru arranged the ride with one of her chauffeurs and Ren divvied up the final closing tasks with Ryuji and turned off the neon ‘Open’ sign at the door. Ryuji left to go prep oatmeal and cold brew and Ren removed the till from the register, waving goodbye to Shiho as she tiredly waved goodbye, her well-wishes stifled by yawns. 

Ann ended up joining her last minute, worried she wouldn’t even make it to the right dorm room, and speculating someone might take advantage of her. Ren remarked that he understood, and wished them safe travels. 

He set the till down at the table where Haru sat, tote bag resting by her tea. Haru smiled around the lip of her cup, watching as the tote shifted on the table restlessly. Ren recoiled, the coins inside the till clinking together with his sharp reaction.

“Okay,” Ren began, fear flooding his senses. “What is that.”

It was without smell or noise, and that very fact seemed to scare Ren more. Haru was known for taking in the weirdest of interests, from her fascination with medical herbs and carnivorous plants to the strangest creatures this world had to offer. He bit his lip as he glared at Haru, hating how she grinned back at him.

“Guess.”

“Spider.”

“No.”

“Snake?”

“No, come on now.”

“... Turtle?”

“Think of what a witch would have in her possession,” she egged him on, setting down her drink and nearing for the zipper. “A companion?”

Ren thought hard for a moment, and after a short pause, he made his final guess. “Frog?”

“Ren,” Haru tutted. “I was walking around Little Russia last night, since there’s this very cute bakery there with the best jelly donuts, and they’re so cheap —”

“It’s a bag of jelly donuts?” Ren cut her off. “Why didn’t you say so?”

Haru’s sharp glare cut through her cheerful tone, and Ren stifled a laugh as he swallowed back his past fear, beginning to count his bills. Before she could continue, the zipper of the bag shot back on its own, and a furry black ball poked its way out of the opening.

“Haru~” It whined, its voice boyish and garbled. “It’s  _ hot  _ in there, please don’t zip it all the way!”

“Ah—”

Ren’s shock and horror were suspended as the ball of fur sprouted a pair of cat ears, and its head reared towards Ren, piercing blue eyes staring back at him, blinking.

“A cat?” Ren balked. “That talks.”

“I’m  _ not  _ a cat,” it objected, sitting up further and revealing two white paws. “I am Morgana.”

“A Morgana?” Ren asked, tipping his head to look at Haru. “What is this.”

“I heard an injured noise from the alleyway by the bakery and… well,” Haru smiled and reached out to scratch behind its ears. “It’s not just a cat, and all of my senses seem to believe he’s a familiar.” 

“And you’re pretty keen to be hearing me in the first place,” Morgana remarked, his ears twitching sporadically, unpredictably. “What are  _ you _ ?”

“A barista,” Ren replied.

“Barista…” he paused, blue eyes glancing at Haru to confirm. Her amused grin made him snap back to Ren, ears curling back. “Hey. That’s just a fancy word for a coffee guy!”

“He’s a vampire, like me,” Haru explained, “but without the fancy powers.”

“But, I make a mean latte,” Ren smirked. “So, buddy, where’s your master?”

Morgana shrunk in the tote, white paws serving as a cushion for his small chin. “Uh. That’s the thing… I dunno.”

Ren glanced at Haru. “A stray familiar?” 

She shrugged slightly. “I haven’t really heard of it, either. Dr. Takemi says it only happens in violent separations from the metaphysical realm. It probably only severed the connection between Morgana, but didn’t allow him to reabsorb under the veil.”

In layman's terms, a violent death. Gruesome and quick, Ren could imagine. He grimaced and felt pity fill his heart, and thought that Morgana’s fate was a cruel and lonely one. Left alone in an alleyway, injured and confused, Ren could understand.

“And as you know, Takemi has her familiar, and I have Milady,” Haru murmured, rubbing her thumb along the lip of her cup. “We’re not able to take in more than one. It’d be like splitting your soul in half.”

“We don’t want that,” Ren said. “But, I’m not a witch, and our apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“Warlock,” Haru corrected him. “And that doesn’t matter. If you can sense him as a familiar, he’ll become yours. And while you won’t have the benefits of him helping out with spells and incantations, I was wondering if you’d look after him until I could find him a more permanent home? Besides, it’s not like he’s really a cat.”

“I’m not a cat at all,” Morgana chirped. 

Ren paused as he thought, looking over Morgana carefully. His head was the size of a small apple, and his body was skinny, his paws tiny. He probably wouldn’t make any noise, and with him so small and accustomed to riding along in a tote, he might make a good companion, Ren thought. 

“He’s thinking about it,” Morgana told Haru in a sly tone, a slim black tail flicking out of the tote bag. “I think he’s gonna say yes…”

“I was,” Ren puffed. “And then you tapped into my brain.”

Morgana’s pupils sharpened into fine slits, a short hiss leaving him. “I-I did not!” He turned to Haru and deflated, his ears flattening. “Crap, I’m gonna have to go back with Haru, after all.”

“Milady wouldn’t stop pecking at him, insisting he leave,” Haru explained, rubbing the top of Morgana’s head. “She’s… unexpectedly been very territorial.”

“Well, familiars are basically an extension of the soul, right? She probably doesn’t want to get shoved out,” Ren thought aloud. 

Ren’s eyes turned back to Morgana, seeing his sad expression (how was that possible on a small cat like him?), and feeling his heart ache and tug. He was really giving him a hard time - he fully intended on looking after him at least until Haru could figure out what to do with him, or who to pawn him off to next. 

“Fine,” Ren smiled. “You’re welcome to come home with me. I can’t guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”

“Well,” Morgana began, “anything will be better than outside. It’s really cold.”

Haru mirrored Ren’s smile and reached across the table to pat his hand. “Thank you, Ren. Really.”

“All I need is some food, a litter box, a bed…” 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Ren stopped him. “I don’t have all that. Food, maybe,”

“Well, we’ll just have to stop at the pet store on the way home!”

***

It was midnight, and Ren found himself carrying Morgana in the tote bag around his arm, as well as several bags that began cutting into his forearms. A few hundred dollars spent later, Ren had all the supplies of owning a cat in his arms. 

“For a ghost cat,” Ren huffed, shuffling the load in his arms. “You’re pretty expensive.”

Morgana’s head popped up out of the tote, nudging past a bag full of cat food cans. “First, I’m not a cat. Second, I’m not even a ghost. Think of me as… your ethereal companion.”

“Ghost cat,” Ren muttered. Morgana made a low growling sound. “What kind of ethereal companion eats kibble?”

“You only got me kibble?” He complained. “C’mon!”

“No, I got some wet food, too,” Ren puffed. “And a litter box? Really? Can’t you go outside?”

“I assume you go to the bathroom outside, too?” Morgana asked. “I’m your loyal companion and servant! The least you can do is give a little back.” 

“Why is it so heavy…”

“I thought vampires were supposed to be super strong?” 

“I’m a lot stronger than I was thirteen years ago, sure,” Ren thought. “But still, this stuff is easily fifty pounds.”

Ren approached the main door to their small apartment building and set down the bag of litter with a heavy thud as he fished in his apron pocket for his keys. Morgana watched from the crook of his arm, thin tail wapping him in the ribs. 

As Ren keyed into the building and picked up the bag of litter again, he thought about two nights ago how a stranger had cornered him in an alleyway, praised his loyalty to someone he hadn’t even met and his sense of justice, and offered him a position he’d yet to even hear the details about. Ren bit his lip as he began to ascend the stairs to their third-floor apartment, hauling along the supplies with every begrudging step. 

“You took a job from someone you don’t even know?” Morgana chirped.

Ren exited his headspace with a shocked shiver, glaring down at the cat as he opened their apartment door. Morgana jumped out from the bag and padded his way along, sniffing the wall and the floors. 

“Don’t do that.”

Morgana halted in his movements. “Do what?”

Ren scowled. “Get into my head like that.”

“I wasn’t,” Morgana murmured. “I just kinda… hear it.”

Ren sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. There was no use in avoiding it, then. He wished Haru had told him about this… condition before he’d agreed to take Morgana in. Morgana looked over his shoulder to Ren, meeting his glare and shrinking slightly, his gaze narrowing. 

“Look, I can’t help it,” Morgana explained. “But, uh, you’ll get used to it! I promise. I’ll try not to invade your privacy too often.”

Ren closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Sure, cat. Uh, where do you want your… stuff.”

“Let me scout the place out and I’ll see,” Morgana promised, sticking his head into the kitchen before ducking out. “But you’re probably thirsty, right? And I’m a little hungry. Perfect time for dinner.”

Ren nodded, watching him with a bit of fascination as he jumped up on the couch, to the bookcase, and to the top of the door to Yusuke’s bedroom, scrambling to keep his balance and falling to the ground below with a soft thud.

“I’m okay!”

“Be careful,” Ren scolded him and plucked a small can of food out of the numerous sacks. On the label was a silver tabby licking its lips, the brand name colorfully declaring its name  _ ‘Whiskies’ _ . The flavor name was whimsical, ‘Sea Captain's Choice’, with images of salmon, tuna, and scallops. 

He’d never had a cat before. Not even growing up - closest he’d had as a pet was a small aquarium in the living room of his house. He remembered as a child picking out an angelfish and a few others, some that shined as brilliantly as freshly polished silver coins. Now, he was serving fish to an ethereal animal who, by his belief, didn’t  _ really _ need to eat, right? If familiars could come and go, couldn’t they find a… spectral rat to eat?

Ren noticed Morgana didn’t offer up his opinion, he was busy in the other room jumping up onto objects and jumping down, his claws catching the threads on the carpet. If he heard, he was politely staying out of it. Perhaps this could work after all.

He fetched a plate from the cupboard and opened the tin, but before he could open it all the way, the smell floored him, and a gag forced its way out of Ren’s throat.

“Oh God,” Ren gasped. “Jesus.”

“Woah—” Morgana darted back into the room, jumping up on the counter and looking down at Ren as he sat on the kitchen floor. “What happened?”

“You eat that?” Ren hissed back at him, pointing to the can on the counter.

“What?” Morgana turned his head and noticed the can on the counter, sticking his black nose in to sniff it. “Oh! It smells pretty good. What’s the matter?”

“Eugh,” Ren complained, holding his breath as he stood up. “Nothing, nothing. I’m just gonna. Set this away from a vent. In the corner. That okay?”

“Uh… sure?” Morgana watched as Ren readied himself and began to struggle with the can. 

Ren had superhuman strength, and yet he was wrestling with - of all things - a can of cat food. He’d blame it on the size - it was the size of a can of soda and meant as a single serving, so there wasn’t much to get a grip on. Relenting to finally holding the can with one hand and pulling on the lid with the other, Ren finally got it open. He felt a few small drops on his right hand as the foil finally came off, the rest spraying on the beige kitchen countertop.

“Don’t worry - I got it!” And Morgana went to licking up the translucent brown drops. 

“Ew,”

Ren’s stomach turned as he smacked the tin on the plate, and with a sluggish  _ splat _ , the food vacated the tin as a blob, flattening out into a chunky gravy puddle. With quick movements, Ren set the plate in the far corner of the kitchen and rushed to the sink, feverishly pumping hand soap onto his right hand and scrubbing until he created a dense foam.

Morgana paused on his way to the plate of food, his ears curling back, flattening. “That's a pretty sensitive nose you’ve got there.”

“Haru didn’t tell you?” Ren swallowed back another gag. “I mean, some noses are better than others, some are physically stronger than others. It depends.”

Morgana made a small noise of understanding and padded over to his meal, quietly enjoying it as Ren opened the fridge to fetch a bottle of  _ True-O _ . He was thankful that Yusuke had left it alone, his own collection of  _ Vital Squeeze _ still in the back on his side. Ren was dreading this day could only worsen by choking down a discount synthetic, but it seemed there was still hope for it, yet. 

The rest of the night was uneventful, Ren setting up Morgana’s litter box in their coat closet, leaving the door cracked, and telling him to close the crack as much as his kitten body could when he was done, explaining he’d like Yusuke to not know of their arrangement as much as possible, fearing the worst. He checked his phone after his shower to see if Akechi had somehow reached out - on email, on text, or on social media but uncovered nothing. 

Pursing his lips as he prepped the couch to sleep, he looked at the clock to see dawn was fast approaching. Morgana griped that he didn’t have a real bed, but didn’t complain further once he noticed how comfortable it was. Ren checked his phone once more, nothing, and set it aside, rolling over to go to sleep.

***

An intense vibration by Ren’s head startled him awake. 

Ren scrambled to look at it, noticing that instead of displaying a number, the caller ID simply read “Unknown Caller”. Morgana lifted his head, drearily, his paws stretching forward on Ren’s chest. Somehow he had migrated to sleeping on Ren’s torso.

“Who is it?” Morgana sluggishly asked.

“... I don’t know,” Ren murmured, staring down at the phone, his thumb hovering over ‘Decline’.

“Spam caller?”

“... I don’t think so.”

Morgana stared at Ren’s face, illuminated by the daylight creeping through the closed blinds. His sleepy face suddenly hardened, and he set a white paw on Ren’s neck.

“Answer it,” he demanded.

Ren obeyed, hitting ‘Accept’ before the last ring and raising the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Afraid I sold you out, or are you just shy of the phone?” 

A frigid chill washed over Ren, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to raise up. 

Akechi.

“I didn’t think you’d call,” Ren said softly, cautiously. “Did you finally work up the nerve to call a vampire?”

Akechi’s soft laugh resounded through the phone, though it didn’t comfort Ren in the slightest despite its cordial timbre. “I assure you, Ren Amamiya, the one thing I don’t lack is nerve. I’m calling to ask you if you’re still willing to serve as my protection to an upcoming event? It’d be rude of me to assume that things might not’ve changed since we last spoke.”

Ren swallowed, scowling at Morgana as he inched closer, blue eyes almost glowing in the dim light. Morgana’s ears flattened slightly, sheepish.

“If you’re still willing to pay me as generously as we agreed.”

“Of course, of course,” Akechi hummed. “That’s not an issue.” He paused for a beat, as if waiting for any protest on the amount, but when Ren remained silent, he pressed on. “Perfect. Then you can expect to meet me at a small cafe in Hayes Valley this afternoon at 3PM. I’ll send over the details in a text—”

“3 PM,” Ren echoed. “Did I hear that right?”

“This afternoon at 3 PM,” Akechi repeated, his tone hardening. “Is there a problem with that?”

Ren grimaced. Morgana shook his head.

“No, no,” Ren rushed. “No problem at all.”

“Lovely,” Akechi’s voice was smiling, but Ren could somehow tell he wasn’t. “Sorry to wake you, then. See you this afternoon.”

“See you —”

The call ending cut off Ren’s goodbye, the short three beeps resounding through the air and filling the oppressive emptiness that now flooded the room. Ren took in a long breath after he set an alarm for 2 PM and set the phone aside. The time now was 9 AM. 

“3 PM,” Morgana echoed. “But aren’t vampires not supposed to go outside in the daytime?”

“It’s not lethal, it just… I try to avoid it if I can,” Ren said sleepily. “It’s like going out during heavy pollen, or when the sun hits my skin, I break out in hives. It’s not pleasant.”

“But the sun can’t kill a vampire?” Morgana asked.

“It can,” Ren sighed. “But I’d have to be outside for a really long time, and without any clothes.” 

Morgana made a strange chirp as if he were flustered. “But silver’ll kill you for sure.”

“Yeah,” Ren glanced at Morgana as he readjusted, settling down on Ren’s stomach, his body warm and comforting. “But don’t get any ideas.”

“I wasn’t! Hey, while you’re up, can I have another can of food? It was really good…”

Ren grimaced and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. “No. Not now. I need to sleep. You sleep, too.” 

Ren knew with the evening ahead of him, he’d need all the rest he could get. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being a LOT longer than I anticipated! I actually had to cut it into two parts, because I was worried about overloading everyone. My second part will be up by 10/31/2020 by 11:59PM Central Daylight Time, just in time for the end of Halloween :")
> 
> Thank you again to @CometSams for being my beta, dear friend, and work partner, and the source of the inspiration for this piece. She's helped me outline the rest of the story, so expect more frequent updates from here on out. 
> 
> And sincere and overwhelming thanks to you for continuing to read and support the work! If you'd like to connect with me, my Twit is @maweepa and I'm down to DM and chat shuake!
> 
> Finally, if you'd like to support what I do (I currently am unemployed due to COVID-19 and work independently as a food-delivery driver on DoorDash, so your support means a LOT), the link to my tip jar is buymeacoff.ee/maweea
> 
> See you on Halloween! :^)


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren accompanies Akechi to his interview with Bloodthirsty Magazine.

It was too hot out.

Exiting the marked city bus, Ren winced as the sun hit the top of his head. He raised his hood to cover his forehead, blocking the rays from above. It was October, and yet the sun was baking him from within, the sidewalk glaring back up at him and straining his gaze. For San Francisco, it was unseasonably warm

“Ugh,” Ren complained, alerting Morgana’s attention. He shuffled in the tote bag, poking his head out to look at Ren.

“You okay?” He asked.

“No,” Ren replied. “But, I’ll manage.” 

His eyes were raw and irritated, itching and burning. Ren kept rubbing at them with little relief, hoping he could summon some tears to help quench the growing fire. A drug was in the works to aid vampires in this allergic reaction to the daytime - Ren had heard Takemi mention she was working in a study with the prolific vampire doctor, Dr. Takuto Maruki, and that the trial version of the drug was available to the wealthy and those within a close inner circle. She had mentioned selling it to Ren, but it was worth well over three years of his salary, and only good for ninety days. 

“Ninety days,” Morgana hummed. “That’s insane. And you’re completely cured of the effects of sun exposure?”

Ren shuddered once, looking down at Morgana with a frown. “Hey, cool it with the mind-reading.”

“I’m just learning a lot,” Morgana protested. “Haru and Milady taught me all about potions while I was staying with them, but I don’t know much about vampires.”

“Weird, because Haru’s a lot older than me,” Ren mumbled. “If you meet Yusuke, he can tell you all about how he’s managed for the past three centuries. He won’t shut up about it.”

“Oh, is that the other guy you’re living with?” Morgana asked. “I thought I was picking up on a different scent than you.”

“Yeah, he’s ancient. I hope he doesn’t smell like me,” Ren puffed. “Hey, just try to lay low or stick with me the next couple of days. I’m not sure what he’ll think about seeing a cat just out of the blue.”

“Not a cat,” Morgana mumbled.

Ren sighed. “A ghostly… feline, then?”

“Hmph,” Morgana gave up the battle, his head poking innocently out of his bag. 

Those who passed him on the sidewalk kept looking at them and smiling, some pointing and vocalizing excitement about the tiny cat in the shady guy’s bag. He was observing each building they passed by as they walked north towards their destination, and one caught his attention. 

“Hey!” Morgana chirped, forcing his way up to stick his body out of the bag. “Look!”

Ren’s gaze followed Morgana, spotting a small glass business front with a brown sign in the shape of a teapot, and a teal cat emblazoned with its logo, ‘Kit-Tea’. Inside was a small cafe, much, much smaller than their countertop at home. To the left, a cozy room with plush pillows, chairs, and cushions and patrons lounging among a large colony of cats. 

“Think this is the cafe Akechi wanted us to meet at?” Morgana asked, excitedly leaning forward. “Wow, to think he was a cat person…”

Ren pursed his lips as he looked down at his phone for the address. This cafe was on the same street, almost three blocks away from the cafe Akechi had planned to meet at. “Mm, I don’t think so. Says here it’s up the street.”

“Wha?” Morgana groaned, disappointed. “Bummer… It looks  _ super _ fun inside. Like a resort for cats… Think I could get a part-time gig there?”

“Did you want to drop in and ask for an application?” Ren asked.

“Could we —” Morgana made a small growling noise and sunk back into the tote bag. “Hey…”

“Still,” Ren murmured, watching as a couple in the back taunted a cat with a feather on a string, and how a chubby calico lounged in a ray of sun on a fluffy sheepskin rug. “Kinda insane that people will spend money to just… be with cats.”

“Sign said unlimited tea and an hour with the cats,” Morgana hummed, sounding ambivalent. “Didn’t see how much.”

Ren squinted, lowering his frames to get a clearer view of the laminated sign that hung near the entrance. For an hour with the cats and unlimited green tea… 

“Sixty dollars?!” Ren hissed. He felt his gut ache, trying to picture the amount of  _ True-O _ that would buy. “People would spend that much?”

Morgana let out an impressed chuckle, his head popping out of the bag again with ears twitching quizzically. “People  _ sure  _ love cats. Hey, Ren, are you sure you don’t think I could work there?”

Ren scoffed once as he turned to venture up the street, checking the pictures available online of the outside of his destination. The cafe was situated on a corner with an emerald green canopy and its name in a white, simple script:  _ 21st Century Cafe _ . His web browser classified the price range as ‘$$$’, which he assumed for Akechi was normal, but to Ren was a punch to the gut. He regretted not drinking a bottle before he left the house, but something about feeding during the daytime felt… incredibly wrong. 

The menu at the cafe was small and unique, and the prices made Ren shudder. He made a note to never come back to Hayes Valley with a date, knowing his wallet wouldn’t be the only thing left high and dry. 

It wasn’t long before he ended up through the quaint cafe’s doors, greeted by the scent of fragrant coffee grounds and sweet pastries. It was on a different level than the smell Ren usually experienced walking into  _ StarVucks  _ \- it was like her older, more attractive sister. A waitress behind the lunch-counter style bar greeted him politely as he removed his hood and let it fall at his shoulders.

“You can take any free table,” she said.

“Oh— I’m meeting someone,” Ren began, his eyes crossing the small space, and spotting him hidden away in the back. “Found them. Thanks,”

Ren could only see the back of Akechi’s head from his perspective. His brown, tousled hair was unmistakable, and while Ren would hate to admit it, his likeness would be forever burned into his memory from their first encounter in the alleyway outside the club, and the fact that he had stalked him on the internet a couple of nights prior wasn’t helping anything. He wore a white polo shirt and black pants with shiny black oxfords. He sat at a table for four, with the chair beside him occupied by a silver briefcase.

As Ren approached the table, he noticed Akechi was on his phone, and while his eyes tried to refrain from staring, his perceptive sight caught a news headline from an article Akechi was reading:  _ Florida Man Crawls into DMV Bathroom Stall to Proposition Occupant for Sex _ . Must’ve been a slow news day.

“Hey,” Ren greeted as he pulled out the chair opposite Akechi, placing his tote bag on the chair beside him. Morgana thankfully had shut himself in, though a small crack allowed some airflow.

Akechi looked up from his phone and pushed his bangs out of the way, and smiled pleasantly. On the table in front of him was a cup of coffee and a small carafe meant for one person and a thick slice of cake, which judging by a quick sniff was made with honey.

“Ren Amamiya,” he said, tone cordial and pleasant, a shocking contrast to the tone he’d taken with him on the phone. “I’m glad you came. Did you have any trouble finding the place?”

“No, not a bit,” Ren responded as he sat. Though social etiquette dictated Ren should smile back, something felt off. He eyed Akechi cautiously as he settled himself, and gestured to Akechi’s phone. “I’m not interrupting anything important, am I?”

Akechi glanced at the phone in his hand and locked it after a beat, setting it screen-down on the table as he sat up straight. “No, no. Just. Mindless garbage. Are you hungry? Thirsty? The coffee here is excellent.”

Ren shook his head politely and relaxed in his seat. “No, I’m fine, thanks.” He watched as Akechi added a small spoonful of sugar to his cup and freshened it from the carafe, quietly taking in the rich and subtle aromas of citrus, chocolate, and cherries. Yes, the coffee here was much better than  _ StarVucks  _ could ever be, and Ren just had to know from the smell. “If you don’t mind, I’m actually wondering why a college student like yourself would hire a vampire.”

Akechi chuckled once before taking a short sip, and held the cup close to him as he responded, “Ah, so you’ve done your research.”

“And I’d be naive to believe you didn’t do some on me, too,” Ren murmured.

He smiled as he took one more sip and set the cup down, leaning back and crossing his legs. When he spoke, his voice was melodic, almost teasing. “You would.”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t find a lot,” he continued. “Which is why you’re still humoring this deal.”

“I’m still humoring this deal,” Akechi began, “because we shook on it.”

Ren let out a small scoff, his lips pressed into a wry smirk. “And he’s a gentleman.”

“And when I shake on something, it means I will follow through until the very end,” Akechi’s tone was slightly harder, now, the veil lifting on his facade. “Would you describe yourself the same?”

Ren’s expression hardened as he met Akechi’s gaze directly. “I would,” he said firmly.

“Perfect,” Akechi smiled, though his dark brown eyes were devoid of pleasure. He looked like a snake eyeing his prey. “Then, if you’d rather discuss the matter of your employment to me, I’ll walk you through what you’re to do.

“The interview is with  _ Bloodthirsty  _ Magazine. As you might know, it’s a monthly publication run by vampires, for vampires. Your research might have dug up the fact that my publishers have arranged for me to embark on a small book tour next week across the Pacific Northwest. They’ve also arranged some interviews with relevant media outlets in the area,  _ Bloodthirsty  _ being one of them. While my agent has negotiated my being interviewed to include one of their human staff, I suspect there could be other vampires in the room.”

Ren nodded, humming idly. “Are you worried they’ll assassinate you?”

Akechi suppressed an eye-roll. “I’m concerned they’re lying to me. Would a vampire publication really employ a senior contributor who was a human?”

Ren paused, worrying his thumbs together on his lap as he thought it over, looking outside and squinting slightly, his eyes burning with the glare. “That can’t be all.”

Akechi paused, taking a breath in and holding it, his chest puffed out slightly as he thought over his words. “You’re quite intuitive.”

“Lucky guess is all,” Ren said softly. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Akechi looked past Ren, towards the restrooms. “We can discuss your theories after this is over, assuming all goes well.” 

“Mm,” Ren nodded once. “So, what is it you want me to do, exactly?”

“I’d like you to be a fly on the wall,” Akechi said, his tone calculated, his expression vacant as he turned back to face Ren. “I want you to hang back and observe your surroundings. Take inventory of the number of vampires in the room, listen in to our conversation if anything of interest arises.” He smiled, his voice lighter as he continued, “... and of course, as we agreed and you’ve so aptly demonstrated, be prepared to protect me and intervene if things go awry.” 

“Of course,” Ren agreed. “Is that all?”

“That should do, for now,” Akechi hummed. “If they ask you who you are, I will say you’re a part of my staff. Try not to open your mouth too much.”

Ren breathed out sharply through his nose, glancing away. He wasn’t entirely sure how it felt to take orders from someone so young, even if Ren was immortalized in an eighteen-year old’s body. “I’m certain that won’t be an issue.”

“Lovely,” Akechi took the final bite of his cake and stood, taking his briefcase in hand. “We should start heading over, the interview starts in thirty minutes.” 

=

_ Bloodthirsty  _ Magazine was headquartered in San Francisco’s lavish Financial District in a thirty-story high rise. It was located on the 13th floor, which was an anomaly for most buildings. The number was considered too unlucky to even consider. A young intern who escorted them to the elevator explained this excitedly, and how they were even getting a discount on leasing the office because no other financial firm wished to take the risk of occupying such a cursed space. 

Ren couldn’t help but inhale deeply as they occupied the close space, and while he was aiming to discover whether or not the intern was afflicted with vampirism, Akechi filled his senses in full, comforted by an uncharacteristic warmth, the scent sweet and buttery. Ren shuddered slightly, the experience overwhelming him and filling him with nostalgic happiness that made his fingers tingle and his heart flutter.

Before Akechi could glance at Ren’s behavior, it was cut off by a sharp sneeze coming from Ren. He caught it in his elbow and apologized swiftly.

“Allergies,” he explained to Akechi. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, isn’t the pollen awful this year?” The intern chirped in, turning to Ren. “I can barely make it through the day anymore without my allergy medication.”

Ren glanced at the intern’s eyes, seeing they weren’t swollen and bloodshot, how most vampires would be during these hours. With their total obliviousness to the effects of sunlight, Ren’s suspicions were confirmed. A human intern looking to be fresh out of college, and incredibly excited to be working for a publication penned by a staff of vampires. 

They reached the floor quickly, and instantly the aura of the office was set apart from the rest of the stuffy financial high-rise. The back panel to the entryway was lined in rich burgundy velvet, pillowed, and upholstered with black buttons. A neon pink sign hung on the wall advertised their name in a sharp cursive script:  _ Bloodthirsty. _

A tall, pale woman with a short black bob and a pair of tinted oval glasses greeted Akechi as they rounded a corner, reaching out to shake his hand. She wore a tight-fitted black negligee-style leotard under a high-rise dark wash pair of jeans and a pair of high-heeled black lace-up booties. Her long nails were painted a deep red and her lipstick was such a dark brown it was almost black. 

Ren observed the interaction and thought briefly that he was glad that goth hadn’t died, at least not yet. 

She pointed to Ren as she spoke with Akechi. She didn’t have time to ask, interrupted by his swift explanation. 

“Oh, he’s with my publisher,” Akechi explained. “Ren’s here to listen in and see if any sound byte might be appropriate for the sleeve with the hardcover.”

The woman smiled, her brilliant white teeth almost glittering. “I see. Very nice to meet you, Ren,” she greeted Ren, sparing him a handshake. “I’m Veronica DeMortia.”

Ren forced a smile back, looking to Akechi for his reaction. Either it was an obvious pen-name made special for this vampire magazine, or Akechi was more oblivious than Ren thought.

She led Akechi back to a small office which was styled very closely to the Victorian era, with some modern touches like an expensive computer monitor and two television screens. Victoria directed Akechi to sit across from her in a midnight-blue velvet loveseat, and while he got comfortable, he noticed there were floor-to-ceiling windows. It was difficult to tell, however, as they had been tinted to reduce the glare from the outside. It was as if the view to the city was filtered through an expensive pair of sunglasses.

“These are unique,” Ren remarked, pointing to the windows as he hovered closer to the back wall, avoiding a chair. Veronica chuckled lightly.

“They’re on every window here,” she explained. “It’s easier for our staff.”

Ren hummed in understanding, meeting Akechi’s eyes once before turning away, glancing out at the city. Veronica offered Akechi a beverage or refreshments, which he declined politely. She asked if Akechi would be willing for a small photo shoot after their interview, and Akechi made a comment about not expecting his picture being today - that he would have dressed better - and reluctantly agreed once Veronica assured him he looked perfectly fine. 

“Well then, if it’s alright with you and your guest,” she breathed in deeply as she collected her notepad, setting a recorder on the low coffee table in front of them. “Shall we begin?”

The interview began as one might expect - by answering a few small warm-up questions like what Akechi was doing in school, when he was expected to graduate, and where he lived, and if he had any other hobbies. Ren tuned most of this out, however, and silently took a deep breath in, first flooded by Akechi, then the scent of floral perfume, and from there recognizing the unmistakable scent of old roses and musty potpourri. 

“Ah,” Ren whispered to himself while Veronica and Akechi were busy sharing a plastic chuckle. They, indeed, lied to him. The perfume was truly doing her no favors. 

“So, Akechi,” Veronica pressed. “I  _ really _ want to know - you’ve taken such a harsh stance against vampires, and I’m wondering your origins.”

“Well, that’s actually a very personal subject,” Akechi’s voice was saccharine sweet compared to his true manner, all smiles and warm demeanor. His cordial facade, if assigned a scent, would have smelled exactly like his blood. “And a question I get quite often. You see, when I was young, my mother was ruthlessly attacked by a vampire. I watched her die right before me. It was then I learned that vampires were real, and when they emerged collectively into the public sphere, I learned they’re still too dangerous for us to blindly live alongside.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Veronica murmured. “But you must understand that not  _ all  _ vampires act this way?”

“Of course,” Akechi answered. “But, I’m sure you and your readers have noticed the significant uptick in reports of vampires attacking humans? Perhaps it’s because of the taste of those… oh, what do you call them - synthetic beverages - aren’t quenching the thirst as well as they did when they weren’t considered the default?

“I’m suggesting a plan of countermeasures for human safety in a vampire world. One, an inventory on all vampires currently out and living within functioning society. They would bear a mark on their ID showing their true identity since it’s very difficult to tell a vampire from a normal human. Two, we would discuss the possibility of allowing vampires to inhabit specific cities, instead of allowing them to live wherever they please. This way, those who are comfortable with living among vampires can continue to do so, and those who aren’t can distance themselves. In these cities, of course, we would make sure to provide more inventory and access to blood products and relevant health-services.”

Ren bit his lip as he sat through the explanation, suppressing scoffs, snorts, clicks of his tongue, and the like. It was hard to sit through this and keep a straight face. By funnelling vampires into certain cities, what would stop the government or certain hate groups from converging and attacking in full? It almost seemed like a trap in the making. He could hear Yusuke’s fervent opposition to these policies, all of which drowned out Akechi’s further comments. 

He looked to Veronica as she sat, still as a statue, scribbling down notes into her black notepad. Her dark lips were pursed into a small line, shoved over to the left side of her face. Her face was hard to read, but he could tell that she was having the exact same difficulty sitting still and listening to Akechi’s intolerant speech.

“These are optimistic plans,” Veronica said, her voice steady, calculated. “And very bipartisan. Are you planning on running for office?”

Akechi chuckled sheepishly and adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Well, it has been an option for me, but in the meantime, I’m focusing on finishing up my studies. I am, however, hoping to speak with some of the human and vampire ambassadors to see if I can help sponsor some bills for change, or at least sit in on the proceedings.”

Akechi was talking about the newest unofficial installment to the world’s government which was formally based in Tokyo. Two figureheads, an ambassador to humans, and an ambassador to vampires were the mouthpieces for each party. The human ambassador was quickly thrust into the position. His name was Kobayakawa, and his performance was… rocky. Many ordinary humans believed he wasn’t representing the general will of the people no matter what he did. He’d previously been described as a sweaty capitalist pig, but Ren wasn’t sure the description was fair. It just seemed like he was a useless figurehead with an infinite amount of voices in his head. 

The vampire ambassador was equally as ‘useless’, an older politician named Yoshida. He was much, much more unpopular than Kobayakawa in the polls with around a 15% approval rating. Many speculated he’d be on his way out in an emergency election, but it was still yet to be confirmed. Akechi planning on being in talks with them about future amendments  _ was _ quite the lofty goal, and while Ren hated to be pessimistic and pull the ‘age’ card, Akechi wasn’t doing any favors by being so naive. 

A few more questions were asked, though Ren’s inward thoughts smothered his willingness to pay attention. All that mattered now was the twenty-five hundred dollars and being able to buy food and rent for the next few months. Maybe he’d even be able to buy a new pair of work-shoes. His current pair were weak in the soles and peeling their outer layer from the harsh chemicals used in their mop bucket.

Veronica halted the recording and stood, spurring Ren’s attention back to the now as she ushered Akechi out of the room and towards a small studio space a few doors down. Located there was a standard DSLR camera there and a few monitors, and an idle male photographer chatting with a male model in front of a dark red background panel. 

“If you don’t mind, we’ll just take a few basic pictures for your interview segment - for online and the print issue,” Veronica instructed. “But, if you’re willing, we also had a few  _ other _ ideas for the cover.”

“Oh?” Akechi asked, looking to Ren. Ren pursed his lips and shrugged, looking away. “What would they be?”

“We’d be using Rupert here to stage you as his prey.”

Ren glanced to Rupert, seeing he was at least a head taller than him, olive skin and shiny black hair that framed his chiseled features in curls. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt, but even Ren could see his well-cared-for six-pack underneath the cotton. 

“Oh wow,” Ren blurted out. “Akechi, are you willing to do that?”

Akechi hid a glare from Ren but did a poor job of it. “Oh, Ms. DeMortia,” he began. “I’m not so sure.”

“Perhaps you’d be more comfortable with a female model?”

“It’s not that, it’s just —” Akechi turned to Ren, now, and waved him over. Ren hesitated for a moment, but obeyed, stepping forward. “I’d prefer to model with someone I know. Might I use Ren?”

Ren froze in place, his blood felt like ice in his veins. He swallowed hard.

Victoria stepped forward to examine him, walking around him a short circle and stirring up her ancient vampire smell. She hummed with peaked interest as she stopped in front of Ren, facing him head-on. 

“Could I see what you look like without your glasses?” She asked. Ren nodded and slid his frames from his face, blinking idly. She hummed again, this time pleased, and turned to the photographer, who nodded in agreement as they bounced their eyebrows. Veronica handed Ren back his glasses, which she probably didn’t realize were completely fake. “Such a piercing gaze. Yes, he’ll work.” 

“Perfect,” Akechi smiled, patting Ren’s back and causing him to recoil, if only briefly. “I apologize for the sudden change.”

“No trouble at all. We’ll start with the single shots first…”

The world faded away in an anxious blur as Akechi took his place in the center of the backdrop, posing easily with the flashes of the camera. Ren worried his frames in his hands, bending the arms this way and that. He glanced down at his tote bag leaning against the wall and saw Morgana’s glowing blue eyes glaring up at him. 

“What are you  _ doing _ ? You’re acting like a nervous wreck!” Morgana hissed quietly. “Why are you posing for a picture with Akechi?!”

“Did someone hear a cat?” The photographer asked after a short pause from everyone, looking up from the camera. 

“Cat?” Ren repeated, puffing a nervous laugh. “Nah, must’ve been a door.”

“Hmm,” the photographer hummed, then looked back down into the lens. Ren glared down at the bag, causing Morgana to shrink away, the zipper snapping shut. 

A few more shots and Akechi’s single shots were done. It was almost too quick for comfort, but Ren was guided over to the photoshoot area, standing still and awaiting instructions.

“So, Akechi, this will be a lot like your single takes,” Veronica explained. “But, Ren, you’ll be holding Akechi in your arms.”

Ren hooked both arms around Akechi’s shoulders, letting them hang loosely, afraid if he ventured any closer they’d be torn off with a silver chain. “Like this?” 

“Well, a bit tighter, and we’ll have your mouth right next to his neck,” Veronica smiled.

“Uh,” Ren looked to Akechi, who breathed in and let out a shaky breath.

“It’s just for a photograph, Ren,” Akechi whispered. “And if this turns out well, you can have the extra five hundred dollars you requested in the beginning.”

That was all he needed to hear.

Ren’s grip tightened as he reached out to tug on Akechi’s polo collar, his other hand resting on his shoulders, enveloping him. He moved in closer, his soft hair brushing his cheek, lips parted as he inhaled deeply. His eyes closed with the euphoria he experienced from his scent - it surrounded him now in full, like a warm blanket right out of the dryer, the taste of buttery pancakes. So soft and sweet, it seemed sinful. His fangs even threatened to protrude with the raw pleasure he was granted.

“Oh, wow,” he heard someone say in the background and felt his eyes sting with the pulse of the camera. 

“Ren, now, if you could give us one look at the camera and then one right to Akechi… oh wow, and… perfect. That should be good.”

Ren took an abrupt step back, removing his hands as quickly as he could. Akechi casually straightened out his collar and fixed his hair, smiling pleasantly to the staff. It was a smile that was so guarded Ren couldn’t make out its true emotion.

“Are we all set here?” Akechi asked, chuckling easily.

“Yes, we should be,” Veronica hummed. “Again, thank you for the pleasure of our discussion, Akechi. I’ll send you a copy once it’s written. Let me walk you both out.”

***

Ren didn’t feel like he could breathe properly until they exited the block _Bloodthirsty_ Magazine was located on. Akechi was unexpectedly silent as well, and the two seemed to walk several blocks in the opposite direction before one of them spoke up.

Ren swallowed. “So, about th—”

“How about dinner?” Akechi spoke over him. “I know a decent place just north of here. We can go over our notes there.”

It seemed Ren didn’t have much of a choice and that Akechi had decided for them, since he was already rerouting their path, pressing the pedestrian crossing button. Ren breathed in deep and sighed heavily.

“Sounds good,” Ren murmured and followed in Akechi’s brisk footsteps. 

Ren struggled to keep up with him, but he could see just at a glance that Akechi was smirking. Unlike all of his plastic smiles he’d given today, this one seemed deeply amused and genuine, and for some reason that scared him even more. Ren was beginning to deeply worry about just what kind of hell he got himself into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, and thank you very much for reading this extended installment of Chapter 2! 
> 
> I'd like to thank you for your generous support in comments, sharing the fic on Twitter, and donating coffees to my tip jar after the publication of the last two chapters. It truly means the world to me, and I'm incredibly happy I could help provide a little free entertainment amid these sucky times. 
> 
> I'm aiming to have the next chapter up by mid-to-late November (it'll be a long one!) but we'll see how this election turns out. If you're able to and located in the US, please don't forget to vote! Akechi would want you to! For Justice!
> 
> As always, you can find me on Twit at @maweepa! See you soon. :^)


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi thanks Ren with a drink, a tragedy occurs, and a new contract is formed.

They entered a small bistro with amber lighting in a casual setting. A hostess took them over to a small booth in the back of the restaurant, handed them both a menu and said someone would be with them shortly.

“It’s my treat,” Akechi explained and set the menu away from him. “If you’re hungry. Or thirsty? It seemed you worked up quite a thirst… somewhere.” 

“I was only following orders,” Ren defended himself. “Would you have preferred if Rupert posed with you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Akechi scoffed. “In any case, it’ll make for a tantalizing photograph for the cover. Imagine the copies they’ll sell.” 

A waiter came by and dropped off two glasses of water, asking if they needed any other drinks.

“Do you have any synthetics?” Akechi asked before Ren could open his mouth. The waiter’s eyes widened slightly at the question (normally Ren preferred to be a bit more… subtle?) before he nodded quickly. 

“We have  _ Vital Squeeze _ and  _ True-O _ , uh,” he looked to Akechi, collecting the pen from behind his ear. “What type would you like? We’re out of O in  _ Vital Squeeze _ .”

“Oh, it’s not for me, it’s for him,” Akechi smiled, sitting back. “What type do you prefer, Ren?”

Ren paused, swallowing hard as he adjusted his glasses. “Uh,  _ True-O  _ AB, please.”

“And anything for... you, sir?” The waiter reluctantly asked Akechi.

“No, the water’s fine, thanks.”

The waiter left after a short nod, leaving the two alone with the suffocating aura Akechi had summoned. Ren cleared his throat instinctively, the daylight still causing his allergies to flare up. Akechi raised an eyebrow as he took a short sip from his glass.

“Are you coming down with something?” He asked, genuinely curious. “You’ve been acting sick all day.”

Ren tapped the side of his drink with his nail, reminding himself that he needed to trim them. He met Akechi’s eyes as he tapped at the sweating glass idly, waiting to see if he connected the dots. Akechi’s chin dropped as he waited for an answer.

“Well?”

“Well,” Ren began softly, “you did request my presence in the daylight.”

Akechi paused, unfazed as he thought. “Is that an issue?”

Ren snorted out a laugh, raising his palm to his cheek. “ _ Wow _ , you really don’t know?”

“Of course I know,” Akechi rushed, his confident aura quickly fading. Ren felt a bit of amusement swell within him. This was ironic. 

“Go on,” Ren egged him on. “Tell me.”

“It’s because… you sleep during the day, normally, right?” Akechi asked. “So your schedule is switched around. I went through something similar last semester during a particularly rough week of final examinations.”

Ren bit his lip to suppress a grin, though did a terrible job. He tried to hide it by taking a drink, but looking across the table at Akechi’s stoic expression only made it worse. 

“Oh my God,” Ren whispered, almost exasperated. “You really don’t know.”

Akechi’s expression flattened, hardened. His gaze cut through him, sharp enough to cut stone. “Enlighten me, Ren. Why can’t vampires go out during the day?”

“I just thought,” Ren smirked, a smug tone clear with his words, “you would have been more educated granted you based your full career on getting rid of vampires. You’re lucky you’re talking about this with me and not…  _ Bloodthirsty  _ Magazine. Vampires can  _ technically  _ go out during the day, but it’s like being up at the wrong hour like you said. But in addition to that, imagine you have severe seasonal allergies and you just… walk outside into spring without a milligram of allergy medication. Being exposed to sunlight… it makes the strongest among us break out in a horrible rash. Being exposed to the day causes us to feel muddy, sluggish… It's something with the vampirism virus that reacts negatively to all things daylight. Think of why a lot of popular vampire stories are based in foggy, miserable places.”

Akechi absorbed this information carefully, his hand supporting his chin as he leaned into the table. They were briefly interrupted as the waiter brought over Ren’s  _ True-O, _ asked if they needed anything else, and left once Akechi shook his head and offered a small ‘thank-you’. 

Ren tapped the side of the bottle, noticing it was warmed up a bit too much for his liking. Humans didn’t really understand how hot to make it, nor did they care about raising it to an optimal 98.9°F. They’d just as well serve him a boiling hot cup of coffee. Ren turned up his nose slightly, suspecting they might’ve burned it, too. It always tasted a bit more plastic-y than normal when it was this hot. 

“So,” Akechi hummed. “The rumors were true? I’d heard that sunlight to a vampire was quite lethal.”

“And so you invited me out, anyway?” Ren scoffed.

“You can’t always believe rumors,” Akechi shrugged. “And you’re living proof that my theory was correct. Here you stand—”

Ren sneezed once into his elbow.

“Bless you.”

“Ah,” Ren winced as he uttered the words, hiding a smile with a cupped palm. 

Akechi’s eyes widened. “Is the mention of Christ a weakness for you, too?”

Ren lowered his palm as he shook his head, reaching for a napkin to dab at his nose as he revealed his grin. “No, that one’s fake, too.”

“You,” Akechi halted and laughed, once. The sound was soft and easy. It trickled from his lips like honey. “I suppose I have a lot to learn.” He smiled, tilting his head so his cheek rested in his palm, his legs crossing under the table, a black oxford tapping Ren’s knee. It was accidental, but the touch and genuine smile caught Ren off guard, making him feel as if he was sitting on unsteady ground. “Thank you, Ren,” Akechi continued, “for being someone I can trust.” 

Ren hesitated, lowering his eyes shyly as he palmed his bottle of  _ True-O  _ and raised it to his lips. He exhaled, a mild shiver present in his breath, and met Akechi’s gaze again.

“Thanks for being open-minded,” Ren said.

Akechi breathed in sharply, his chest puffing out as he, too, broke eye-contact and favored the glass on the table. He nodded once, but shifted focus to the streets outside, brown eyes listless as he observed people crossing the street, some couples out holding hands, and several walking all different breeds of dogs.

Ren took a sip of his drink and felt the bitter afternotes of his drink penetrate through much more than normal — A side effect of warming the drink too harshly. He swallowed it back with a bit of difficulty, wondering if he should force himself through the bitterness or if he should politely sip at it until he could return home and get a fresh bottle. He opted for forcing it down, not wanting to seem impolite when a college student was footing the bill. He finished each drink with a sip from his water. He had gotten so used to the silence between them that he hadn’t even noticed it had been a few minutes, and something within him felt compelled to break it.

“Are you thinking about the interview?” Ren asked, looking at Akechi again.

“What?” Akechi seemed to ask out of instinct, gaze breaking from the streets and turning to Ren. “Oh. Yes. I suppose I was.” Akechi straightened in his seat and cleared his throat. “Were you?”

“Yeah,” Ren lied as he traced his thumb over the mouth of his bottle.

Akechi nodded once. “Good. I was trying to deduce myself whether or not Victoria —”

“— Was a vampire?” Ren asked. Akechi’s eyes widened slightly and he vocalized a soft affirmation. “Yes.”

“She was?”

“I’m fairly confident,” Ren said. “Like, maybe ninety-nine percent.”

“How could you tell?” Akechi asked, running a hand through his bangs with an exasperated sigh. “I had no idea.”

“Really?” Ren chuckled. “I thought the goth vibes would have been a dead giveaway for someone like you.”

“Did you see the interior of that place?” Akechi murmured. “I just thought she was… blending in with the other members of the vampire staff.” 

“Well,” Ren breathed in and slid his bottle to the center of the table, leaning back in his seat. “It was kind of easy. I knew within the first few minutes of you two talking. She had that kind of smell.” 

Akechi’s brow relaxed and his eyes hung heavy, unbelieving. “A smell.”

“Yeah, a smell.” Ren shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s something all vampires share to a certain extent. Sometimes it’s stronger or weaker, sometimes it’s a little different, but overall it changes the scent of the blood.” He shrunk slightly when Akechi’s expression turned from disbelief into morbid fascination. “Uh, it’s like… I don’t know. I think it smells like an old funeral home. Dead roses and potpourri.”

“How lovely,” Akechi remarked in a sarcastic aside. “And… how interesting. All vampires exhibit this?”

“To a certain extent,” Ren repeated. “I’ve learned that you can try and cover it up all you want, but in the end, you can always smell it. A few of my friends have always said I’m the best at sniffing others out.”

Akechi’s smile grew from fascinated to enraptured, and he sat up, moving closer to Ren and leaning into the table. “Really? That’s incredible.”

“It’s not, really,” Ren murmured, feeling a blush creep onto his cheeks.

“I’ve never heard of this,” Akechi admitted. “So, do humans have certain smells, too?”

Ren picked up his bottle of  _ True-O  _ and tried to hide behind it, shielding himself from Akechi’s unbreaking stare. “Uh. Yeah. Of course.”

“Out of sheer curiosity,” Akechi began, languidly picking up his glass of water and raising it to his parted lips. “What do  _ I _ smell like?”

Ren stiffened, freezing to be as still as a statue. He could see out of his peripheral vision that Akechi was examining every part of him, dissecting him like a science project behind those soft brown eyes, staring him down like he was prey.

“I imagine you got a fairly good idea back at the photoshoot,” Akechi continued, tone amused. “Please — I won’t be offended.”

“Shu—” Ren halted his swear as he took a hearty gulp of his drink and followed it with a quick sip of water. He set the glass down back on the table with a definite  _ thwack _ and swallowed hard, looking Akechi directly in the eye. “You smell like pour-over coffee and honey cake,” he lied.

Akechi blinked twice. “Really?” He asked after a small pause.

“Yeah,” Ren continued, his face betraying him as it burned, turning an unattractive shade of red. “You smell like the last thing you ate.” He swallowed. “Don’t worry — it smells good.”

“Oh,” Akechi vocalized, tone relieved, as if he’d been worried about it all day. “That’s really interesting. So, if someone you’re sitting next to just ate something foul—”

“They smell like that, yeah,” Ren nodded, and chuckled once, the laugh hollow, plastic. “You have  _ no _ idea how many sour tuna melts I’ve smelled on the bus.”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell Akechi that he smelled so incredibly good he kept sneaking in small sniffs just to catch a whiff — that his blood was the most tantalizing he had smelled in the almost fourteen years he’d been afflicted with this new existence. He couldn’t begin to tell Akechi that he smelled as sweet and warm as a stack of freshly griddled pancakes, and yet so much more. It was a smell of comfort, nostalgia, and Ren, security. He wasn’t sure how he could describe the feeling it gave him, just that it filled an empty piece of him, and that being around him provided a peace Ren hadn’t felt in long over a decade. 

Instead, he lied. He gave the man another lie to satiate his curiosity. He watched as Akechi laughed again, the sound light and easy, carefree for a moment. Ren wished he could join in it, but this overwhelming, suffocating…  _ feeling…  _ was preventing even the slightest bit of joy to come from this conversation. 

Akechi’s smile wistfully softened as he looked across the table and eyed the empty contents of Ren’s bottle and a glass of water. He stole a glance at this phone and cleared his throat, setting it on the table.

“I suppose it’s time we discuss the matter of payment,” Akechi murmured. “If you can send me your handle on  _ Cashmo _ , I’ll send the deposit.”

“Three thousand dollars, right?” Ren confirmed. He watched as Akechi smirked, though he said nothing as he toyed with his phone. “Hmph. Must not have been a very good photo shoot.”

“So impatient,” Akechi silently chided him as he turned his phone to Ren so he could enter in his information. Ren quickly keyed it in, murmuring for Akechi not to comment on his profile picture or handle name, which was of him sleeping corpse-style in a pile of fake dollar bills, and his handle being  @jokerupmysleeve . Akechi snorted a laugh, but said nothing, just as requested. 

Ren received a ping shortly after that the money had hit his account. His phone was in the tote bag with Morgana, however, and he didn’t feel up to disturbing him just to confirm the amount. 

“I already have your number,” Akechi began, “so I won’t ask for it.”

“How very gentlemanly of you,” Ren remarked.

“But,” Akechi smiled slyly as he fetched a few bills from his wallet for Ren’s ‘dinner’. “I’m going to ask if it’s alright if I contact you again.”

“Of course,” Ren spoke before he could properly think about this, about how he could weigh the possible consequences that would come up as a result of working with Akechi. Something about him— and it could have very well been the intoxicating smell of his blood —made Ren wish to see him again. “Even if it’s just for coffee,” he said. 

Akechi hummed once. Ren couldn’t decide whether or not it was meant to be pleasant or bored. “That’s reassuring, I’m glad I haven’t entirely turned you off,” he mumbled, setting fifteen dollars down on the table.

Ren puffed a laugh. “Not entirely.”

Akechi and Ren stood together, Akechi palming the handle of his silver briefcase and Ren adjusting his tote over his shoulder, feeling Morgana move with him, his warm body pressed up to Ren’s ribs. 

“Well then,” Akechi sighed. “Until next time, Ren Amamiya.”

***

Ren boarded the N bus back towards Inner Sunset to his apartment, and due to the time of day and when ordinary humans got off of work, was disappointed to find that the cabin was packed to the brim. He managed to squeeze himself in between a few businesspeople, apologizing quietly for the intrusion, and noticing their sour expressions as Ren struggled to tag his fare.

The bus speakers blared into his ears: _ “Please stand clear of the doors.” _

“Ugh,” Ren complained. It was only fourteen stops. He’d manage.

“You okay?”

Morgana’s boyish voice was probably drowned out by the idle chatter of the bus patrons and the clattering of the bus doors and windows as it plodded along, westbound. Hearing it somehow brought Ren a deep sense of comfort, even though he still hadn’t grown entirely accustomed to it.

_ “Please stand clear of the doors.” _

“Yeah,” Ren whispered back, looking down to see Morgana had poked his head slightly out, his ears flickering idly. His whiskers and fur were dented and frizzy, looking like he’d just woken up from a long nap. “Sorry about taking so long, I didn’t think he was going to take me out for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Morgana echoed, and then looked outside to the sun setting. “Oh, I see.”

“What’d you think?” Ren asked as the bus came to a stop. He stepped out of the bus to let some passengers off and quickly stepped back on before the doors could clip him. “Of everything this afternoon.”

_ “Please stand clear of the doors. Please hold on.” _

The bus lurched forward and Ren stumbled, reaching overhead for a rung to cling onto. It was still crowded, but it was lessening bit by bit. 

“I… I dunno,” Morgana murmured, poking his head out a little further. He rubbed into Ren instinctively, and Ren was certain for a second he heard him purr. “I don’t think this Akechi guy is… good.”

Ren hummed, curious. “Why’s that?”

“I just don’t like the vibe he gives off,” Morgana confessed. “It doesn’t feel right. Like, I knew Haru was good the second I met her, and you were, too, after we talked.”

“Funny, ‘cause you didn’t act like it.”

“Whatever, you dummy.” Morgana puffed. 

The bus pinged, requesting another stop. It shuddered to a stop, and Ren had to hop off to let others off and quickly hop back on. Many who were still standing found some spots to sit, but Ren was still stuck clinging to a metal rung above. Morgana’s face rested easily on the rim of the tote, nose wiggling as he sniffed around them. 

“Still,” Ren mumbled. “That easy little encounter paid off the next two rent payments, food for you, and a few weeks of food for me.”

“Hey, buddy,” Morgana piped. “I’m not saying it wasn’t worth it for the money, I’m just saying for the amount of stress it caused, maybe don’t do it again.”

“Stress it caused?” Ren repeated. “Do you have a tap in my feelings, too?”

“It goes hand in hand with the mind channel,” Morgana explained. “Trust me, if I could turn it off, I would. Especially back there with the  _ photoshoot _ ...”

_ “Shut up, cat.” _

“I’m not a—”

A sudden alarm cut Morgana’s protest off, and while at first Ren thought it was localized to just his phone, it seemed to spread to every patron on the bus. Instinctively, they all looked down at their phones, some letting out shocked gasps, others’ mouths agape with horror.

Ren hastily pulled his phone out of the tote’s side pocket, silencing the alarm as he stared down at the alert written in all caps from San Francisco’s branch of Vampire Ambassadors:

_ BY ORDER OF AMBASSADOR YOSHIDA: ALL THOSE AFFLICTED WITH THE VA-1440 “VAMPIRISM” VIRUS ARE RECOMMENDED TO STAY WITHIN THEIR RESIDENCES FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS. ALL VAMPIRES WITHOUT VALID REASON FOR TRANSIT WILL BE DETAINED AND QUESTIONED. THANK YOU. _

Ren swallowed as he heard several others on the bus begin to question what had happened. He opened up his phone to navigate to the news and waited impatiently as it loaded the list of headlines. One, in particular, caught Ren’s immediate attention:

_ POPULAR MODEL AND ACTRESS ‘MIWA’ DEAD; AUTHS. SUSPECT VAMPIRES RESPONSIBLE _

Under the headline was a small blurb about how she’d been found dead in her own home, and while police were answering reporters about, yes, it was a vampire attack, and how there had been a growing number of them, they failed to answer any details; just that it had been the most gruesome one yet. 

“We suspect that it was either the work of a group of vampires working in tandem from multiple unknown entry points,” Ren quietly read aloud, allowing Morgana to peer at the screen. “Or a single vampire of unprecedented strength.”

“That announcement,” Morgana wondered, “isn’t it a little weird?”

“It’s optional,” Ren mumbled. “But it’s… encouraged. I wonder what the big deal is. No single vampire could do that, not unless they were pumped full of steroids or something.”

“It’s probably nothing,” a passenger said. “Whatever. They’ll catch them soon, probably still covered in blood.”

“I hate to agree with him,” Ren whispered to Morgana. “But, it's probably nothing.”

“Well, you better get home quick,” Morgana replied. “You have to work again tonight, right?”

Ren sighed, raising his hand to rub his eyes under his glasses. “Shit, you’re right. And the night after.”

“Well,” Morgana hummed. “Maybe you’ll have to make yourself an extra-strong cup of coffee.”

***

The next twenty-four hours went by in a blur — Ren went and closed with Ryuji as usual, he received word from the day manager via an email that they hadn’t done well enough the previous few nights, even though they literally did all they could, Ryuji cursed him out through the safety of the cooler, and Ren finally got to leave and go home, feed Morgana, and drink another bottle of synthetic blood.

Yusuke had left him a note in elegant cursive on the fridge, just that he was staying over at Hifumi’s place for the night to film a few videos. He made no mention of Morgana’s scent, the litterbox, the boxes of cat food, or the small, growing collection of cat fur scattered about the apartment. Had he noticed, and just not cared?

By the time Ren’s head hit the pillow of his bed on the couch, he was already unconscious. He woke up once in the middle of the day to see Morgana on his chest, purring softly and sleepily looking back at him.

Yawning, he stretched out his front legs, white claws catching into his blanket and making a small catching noise. With a soft trill, somewhere between a purr and a meow, he asked, “Why are you awake?”

Morgana was warm and soft, a constant pressure calming him even as Ren looked up at their clock, the time showing it was somewhere in the early afternoon. He looked back to Morgana, eyes heavy with sleep, and felt a deep comfort in looking at his striking blue eyes.

“Ren?” He asked again, the sound a soft meow.

Ren reached up and took a gentle hold of Morgana’s front left paw, feeling his soft toe pads with his thumb. Morgana stiffened slightly in his touch but relaxed as he looked deeper into Ren’s eyes.

“Thanks,” Ren whispered, his voice slurring.

“For what?”

“...Being here.”

Morgana slipped his paw out of Ren’s soft grasp and stood up, only to walk forward and knock his head into Ren’s, rubbing his soft cheek against his. Ren gave him a small stroke on the back and watched in a haze as Morgana settled again, facing away from him and tail curled up. Ren wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating, but he felt as if Morgana was purring louder, now. 

“Go back to sleep.”

And so he did.

***

Ren’s alarm woke him hours later, at five in the evening. Morgana woke up when he did as if they shared the same mind. And in a way, Ren supposed they did, now. 

“Ren,” Morgana complained. “I wanna eat before you leave for work.”

He looked over to Morgana, who was already stretching out again, kicking his back legs behind him, his tail wagging like a dog’s. Ren gave him a quick stroke behind the ears and stood, stretching once himself and letting out an audible sigh.

“Okay, okay,” Ren huffed. “It’s gonna be the turkey and gravy one, though. I’m not opening another can of that seafood medley. You’ll have to get Yusuke to feed you that.”

“Works for me.”

The clock was working against him, but he managed to feed Morgana a tin of food, quickly shower, dress in his relaxed uniform (because the full uniform was too dirty, and he never wore it all anyway), and checked his phone for any updates. Haru texted him asking if she and Makoto could use the cafe to study, and Ren hastily texted back that it was fine, and that he’d be at work in about a half-hour. 

In the short time, Ren struggled to get ready, Morgana had scarfed down an entire tin of food, was swayed into joining him at work to see Haru even though the previous night, Ryuji had accidentally sprayed him with the hose on the sink, and Ren managed to nearly walk out without his glasses, which of course, were fake, but helped him seem a bit more normal. 

The bus ride was crowded with the influx of commuters, but Ren still managed to get to  _ StarVucks  _ more or less on time. He noticed that Ryuji’s shoulderbag was missing and that he was likely running late, too, which meant…

“Bout time you showed up.”

_ Fuck _ .

Ren set his tote bag with Morgana gently in the back, hidden away from his nemesis’s vision. As he straightened up, the day manager, Suguru Kamoshida, walked in from the front, hauling two empty canteens of cold brew coffee.

Kamoshida, or as Ryuji called him, the ‘Day Demon’ or ‘Day-mon’ for short, was the source of Ren’s headaches and daily pain. He thought himself a god, but in reality, he was a man in his early thirties managing a  _ StarVucks _ . Once monthly, they’d sit down at an ungodly early hour for Ren and fight over the schedule - who would get their days off and when, and Kamoshida would always attempt to schedule him in the day. He didn’t know of Ren’s … status, and Ren was keen to keep it that way.

He was wearing the full uniform - black straight-leg slacks, a white polo, the dark green apron, and black sneakers. He looked over Ren’s casual attire and scoffed, dropping the canteens into the metal sink with a loud  _ clang _ . Ren winced and his ears began to ring violently. 

“You know that’s not dress code,” Kamoshida remarked.

“Well, it’s not like the district manager is going to stop by at 11 PM for a coffee quality assurance,” Ren muttered. “And if the store’s clean, what’s the difference.”

“He very well could,” Kamoshida responded, strolling over to the whiteboard with the schedule marked on the back wall. “And it’s not like this store is sparkling when I come in, so don’t even act like a model employee.” He traced his finger down the wall, landing on Ryuji’s start time. “Speaking of shining examples, where’s your friend?”

Ren stared at the clock above the whiteboard.  _ C’mon Ryuji,  _ he thought,  _ I can’t hold him back forever. _

“He texted and said he’d be here in five minutes,” Ren lied.

“I sure hope so,” Kamoshida hummed. “One more tardy and he’s getting written up.”

“That’s not your decision, Suguru,” Ren scoffed, picking up his visor from the rack against the door and fastening it on his head. “He’s night-staff. You can’t touch him.”

“I’m just saying,” he began, “that if the DM caught wind that the night staff was slacking off while the day team pushed sales, he probably wouldn’t be too impressed.”

“And who sets up the day team for success?” Ren asked, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from forming them into fists. “The invisible restock fairies?”

“Sure, if you want to call yourself that.” 

_ Fuck this guy, _ Ren thought, hate filling his body like poison.  _ Fuck him. _

“Why don’t you head out?” Ren asked, nodding to the door. “I’ve got it covered.”

“You sure about that, Amamiya?” Kamoshida asked as he removed his name tag and tossed it on the back table. “Alright, if you insist. I’ve got a hot date.”

“Mm,” Ren hummed back. “High-school or college?”

“Huh?” Kamoshida’s head whipped around as he collected his duffle bag and slung it around his back. “What? Sicko.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a middle-schooler?” Ren asked, deadpan. “Suguru, how unbecoming.”

“Fuck you,” he spat back. “You’re a fucking deadbeat loser—”

As Kamoshida started into a flurry of swears, Ryuji swung into the back door and stopped Kamoshida in his tracks, looking winded, face red and flush. 

“Sorry,” he blurted out, cutting Kamoshida off. “I missed the last 7X and had to go through Haight—” Ryuji’s eyes widened as he looked between Kamoshida’s furious expression and Ren’s sharp glare. “Oh, hey Kamoshida.”

“You’re late,” Kamoshida barked back. “One more fuck up like that and you’re  _ fired _ . I don’t care what shift you’re on.” He turned up his nose at Ren and kicked open the back door. “And you better not fuck up my opening tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pal,” Ren responded, tone sour. “Have fun on your play date.”

The door slammed, sending Ren into an instant headache with the sound and the stench of the foul man that followed. Kamoshida’s blood was a vile mix of sweaty gym shoes and musky cologne, and while he didn’t know his type officially, he knew if it ever touched his lips, he’d promptly throw it up. He winced again and began rubbing his forehead as he let out a heavy sigh. Ryuji’s shocked expression had turned to barely-contained fury, and he, too, exhaled sharply as he pulled his dark green apron over his graphic tee and black capri pants, tying it with swift yanks. 

“What a fucking  _ asshole! _ ” Ryuji yelled. “Who crawled up  _ his  _ ass?”

“I did,” Ren puffed. “I suppose I deserved it.”

“What the fuck ever,” Ryuji growled. “I suppose he left us with a line, too?”

Ren poked his head out of the back to see that, thankfully, the lobby was empty. He sighed in relief and took off the visor, flinging it to the back.

“Morgana,” he called. “It’s all good now. Just stay in the back ‘til Haru gets here.”

“I’ve never felt you that angry before,” Morgana said quietly, sticking his head out of the tote bag. To Ryuji, all he heard was Morgana’s soft meow, but thankfully he had described their working relationship the previous night. 

“Hey, uh,”

Ren looked back to see Ryuji crouched down in front of Ren’s bag. Morgana’s ears were flattened and his eyes were narrowed. His tail made a small thumping noise against the fabric of the bag as it wagged with annoyance.

“I wanted to, uh, apologize for spraying you with the hose. It’s just, you uh, you spooked me—” Ryuji looked back to Ren, his expression hopeless, though Ren sensed a real bit of regret within him. “Am I doing this right? You just talk to him like a human, right?”

“Yeah,” Ren managed a small smile, despite his soured mood. “Morgana, you know he didn’t do it on purpose, right?”

“Well, the thing is I did, I thought he was from off the street—”

“Apology… accepted,” Morgana said after a long pause, his face softening and his ears perking back up. “Ren, you can tell him as long as he pays me back in some sushi.”

“He says he wants a hug,” Ren told Ryuji.

“He what?”

“Ren, no—”

“Oh, well, if that’s it!” Ryuji went to pick up Morgana in open arms, smiling wide. Morgana hissed and swatted back at him before shrinking up into a ball and running out of the cracked back door.

The door chime out front signaled they had customers. Ren choked back a laugh as best he could and entered the front, halfway through his traditional welcome when he looked up and noticed it was Haru and Makoto.

Makoto was a close friend of his and Haru’s, he had met Makoto initially through Ryuji back when he first started working here. She was an over-involved student who was unlucky enough to be saddled with Ryuji for a group project back when Ryuji and Makoto were undergraduates. She’d insisted he work on his portion of the project, and after she saw what hell Ren initially put Ryuji through during the first few weeks of his new job, she softened, watched, and eventually, began to socialize with them all as good friends. 

Makoto was also one of the few aware of Ren and Haru’s affliction with the vampirism virus. Her older sister, Sae, was a rising politician and public prosecutor under Ambassador Kobayakawa. She was progressive in her beliefs, unlike Kobayakawa, but had the public’s best interest at heart. Ren had a great deal of respect for the two. He greeted Makoto with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said as he leaned across the counter. “Long time no see.”

“Hi Ren,” Makoto sighed happily. “Ah - yeah, sorry. GRE’s.”

“I understand,” Ren chuckled, though he really didn’t. He didn’t even finish high school. “I hope you and Haru are getting some sleep.”

They both looked at each other and gave a sly smirk, chuckling under their breath. Evidently not.

“Could I have another one of those teas you made for me the other day?” Haru asked, reaching for her purse. “By the way, Milady loved the treats you sent home with me.”

Ren smiled as he plucked out the hot cup and set to prepping the beverage for her. He wasn’t sure there were many pleasures for an ethereal being trapped in a dove’s body, but he was glad he was able to provide her one. 

“You can take another pack home if you want.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. I’ll stop by on my way home and get her some seed.”

Ren set the tea bag into the cup and splashed a small amount of milk before handing it to Haru. He turned his head back to Makoto and saw that she was looking down at her phone, her dainty features contorted in disgust. 

“What’s up?” Ren asked, walking back over to her. Haru did the same and looked over Makoto’s shoulder to peer at her phone. “Something wrong?”

“Yes,” Makoto said flatly with a scoff. “This is their idea of an appropriate response? Absolutely disgusting.”

Haru gasped, her eyebrows furrowing and jaw dropping with shock. “Oh my God,”

Ren felt a chill run down his spine and swallowed hard. “Let a guy in, would you?”

“Sorry—” Makoto apologized, and turned the phone over to Ren. On her screen was a popular news site for the metro area, with the headline reading  _ CELEBRITY MURDER SUSPECT FATALLY APPREHENDED; VIRAL MUTATION FOUND. _

In the article, it detailed how the police commissioner had detained the subject, but due to the suspect’s ferocity, they had to use lethal force to protect themselves and officers. And with the autopsy being rushed, they found that the subject possessed the vampirism virus, but not only that — a DNA mutation that displayed … feral behavior. 

“You have a TV, right?” Haru asked, looking around and finding one in the corner softly playing a football game. “Can we switch it to the news?”

“Uh,” Ren turned around, trying to shake off the haze that the news set onto him. “Yeah. Ryuji, where’s the remote?”

“Back here,” Ryuji called. He brought it out to him a moment later, smiling to Makoto and Haru before pausing in his step. “Why the long faces?”

Ren snatched the remote from Ryuji’s hand and quickly flipped to the 24/7 news outlet, seeing cellphone video of the suspect being apprehended. Blood was everywhere on the scene, and though the video was blurry, saw the suspect’s skin was a pallid shade of stone gray, their hands and face and clothes stained crimson with fresh blood. Before things could get too violent, the news kept cutting away, looking pale and on the verge of spilling their lunch. 

“Jesus Christ,” Ryuji breathed.

_ “Vampire Ambassador Yoshida has made a plea to the population living with the virus in the Bay Area…” _ the newscaster said and nodded as the elderly Yoshida appeared on screen in an earlier broadcasted press conference.

_ “Preliminary testing has found an abnormal irregularity in the departed suspect’s blood. We believe this to be the reason the subject had lost control. Seeing as this anomaly is not present in the tissue or bones, we are assuming this condition to be a virus. We’re unclear as to how far it has spread, but while we work to gather this information, we ask that all those afflicted with the VA-1440 virus self-quarantine…” _

“Bullshit,” Ren breathed as he handed Makoto’s phone back to her.

“They’re askin’  _ all  _ vampires to stay at home?” Ryuji asked. “Didn’t they send out a text or somethin’ like that the other night?”

“They’ve been sitting on this information,” Makoto tutted. “And two days later, they finally spill their findings after exposing others?”

How was Ren supposed to earn enough to support himself and Yusuke if they were locked up at home? Besides, this wasn’t a problem when interviewing with  _ Bloodthirsty _ . How did this quickly escalate to the point where they wanted the entire vampire population to isolate?

“I’d lose my job if I didn’t show up because Yoshida wanted me to … stay at home and just wait this out,” Ren puffed.

“That’s right,” Haru murmured. “The day manager doesn’t know, does he?”

“Neither does the owner,” Ren nodded. “And we’re keeping it that way, right, Ryuji?”

“Yeah, captain,” Ryuji grumbled. “Ya don’t hafta keep tellin’ me…”

“Oh, they included a Tweet from that one vampire account,” Makoto said. “Bloodholic.”

“The one with the x’s on both sides?” Ren asked. “Like it was made in 2005?”

“You would know,” Ryuji snorted. “They have some really funny stuff.”

xXbL00dhOliCXx was a popular Twitter persona with around five million followers. Their account was a favorite of Yusuke’s, and one he looked up to highly, even strived to be, if only he weren’t several centuries old and severely out of touch in all pop culture that wasn’t art and fashion. They were a vampire meme account, self-employed hacktivist, and outspoken influencer for vampire rights. They hadn’t even released their name or face reveal, and many speculated if the account was just a very well programmed bot. 

“They quoted a tweet of Goro Akechi’s,” Makoto scoffed. “Jeez…”

Ren’s interest was piqued to a higher level. “What did he say?”

“It’s just a huge, long thread about his garbage rhetoric, must I repeat it?”

“Fair,” Ren thought aloud. “But let me read it. Ryuji, why don’t you make Makoto something to drink?”

“A mango dragonfruit lemonade, please,” Makoto requested with acute precision as she handed back the phone to Ren. “Grande with light ice.”

Ryuji blinked and shrank back as he sheepishly plucked a cold cup from the register and penned her order down. “Y-Yes, ma’am.”

Ren tapped on the thread Akechi wrote, skimming it once he saw it really  _ was _ filled with his toxic rhetoric. He was complaining that vampires were becoming more and more of a risk to society, and hypothesizing the grim possibility of if the newly announced virus could transfer to humans — what would that mean for the fate of humanity? 

xXbL00dhOliCXx’s response was simple and succinct:  _ What if you deleted your account? _

“I think he’s only like that in front of the cameras and on social media,” Ren commented, looking up to see all three of them staring back at him, bewildered by his statement. “What.”

“You really think that?” Makoto asked, tone flat. “Really. Honestly.”

“I-I do,” Ren handed Makoto back her phone and pocketed his hands in his pants. “You don’t think he puts on an act? To gain followers?” He looked between the three and bit his lip. “Like, not even a little bit?”

“I dunno, man,” Ryuji hummed pessimistically. “He’s kinda got that… vibe.”

“I mean, when I was with him, he kinda acted like a normal person,” Ren shrugged. 

It felt like the air got sucked out of the room in an instant. Ryuji dropped his chin and glared at Ren in full, Makoto looked away in disbelief, her mouth agape in scorn. Haru was the most confused out of all of them, but once it sank in, her gaze hardened severely and she set her drink down on a nearby table.

“Ren,” she began.

“— What the hell are you talking about, ‘when you were with him’?” Ryuji asked, cutting over Haru.

“Did you hook up with him at a bar or something?” Makoto scoffed.

“No, no, no,” Ren rushed, a small bit of horror welling up within him at the thought. “Nothing like that at all! Well. Sort of.”

“Oh heavens,” Haru whispered, turning pale.

“But not in that way!” Ren clamored to explain himself. “Yusuke took me out to a bar because there were some jobs there, and I just sort of… fell into getting employed by him—”

“Ren,” Makoto breathed out, her voice as if her soul had left her body.

“No, not like that,” Ren scoffed back at her. “Jesus — he needed a bodyguard, and he set up this ‘test’ that I just sort of passed and he wanted to hire me. He wanted me to go with him to this interview with a magazine and sniff out the other vampires in the room, or protect him in case something went south.” Ren sighed heavily and plucked a cold cup for himself and turned around to pour himself an iced coffee. Fuck the inventory — he deserved it after this. “It was for three thousand dollars.”

“Three thousand dollars?” Ryuji repeated. He looked to Makoto and bounced his brows once. “You sure it’s ‘not like that’?”

“Do you really think I’d sell myself?” Ren balked. The three shared a look and a short silence. Ren rolled his eyes and turned back to his drink and stabbing a dark green straw through the top. “I may be poor,” he defended himself, “but he’d have to spend a  _ lot _ more than three thousand dollars for  _ this. _ ” Ren gestured to his physique with a flippant hand.

“Ren, you  _ wouldn’t _ ,” Haru scoffed, approaching the counter and reaching out for his hand. “You know that if you  _ ever  _ need money, you can  _ ask  _ me.”

“ _ Haru _ ,” Ren sighed heavily, refusing to close the gap between them as he set his lips to his coffee. “You know I could never do that.”

“Then from Takemi,” Haru said, firmer. “You know she’s been needing vampires to participate in clinical trials.”

Ren shivered at the thought, scowling heavily. When he was just starting to get on his feet again, Yusuke had introduced Takemi to him for ‘easy money’, and through Takemi he’d met Haru. She was in the very, very,  _ very _ early stages of testing a vitamin supplement that would counteract the irritating effects of garlic and sunlight, and the result of the drug sent Ren into a drunken state during the course of the trial, and once he was lucid enough to send home, experienced the symptoms of the worst ‘flu’ he’d ever felt in his entire existence - both human and vampire. He had sworn never to go back to her unless her drugs were nearing completion, but it seemed she was still having trouble finding viable candidates to prey on.

“I’d rather drink silver,” Ren muttered around his straw, ignoring how Haru gasped in shock. “But somehow I’m sure that’s next on her list of possible treatments.”

“In any case,” Makoto puffed as she took her seat and plopped down her bag. “You shouldn’t associate with him again. He’s not… the most respected person right now.”

“Yeah, man,” Ryuji piped in. “I know three grand is three grand, but… he’s kinda sus.”

“I agree,” Haru sighed. “About him being  _ ‘sus’ _ . I know you have a good judge of character, Ren, I’m not doubting it, I just… I worry about you. He’s not someone who’s on our side.”

Ren looked down at the floor, lips pursed into a thin line as he leaned back onto the counter behind him, crossing his legs. If these three were in his position of battling Yusuke’s lethal spending habits and working eighty hours in a pay period for stuck up brats and soccer moms in need of their caffeine fix, they might consider it. And not to mention the strange, enticing aura Akechi had given when they first met, or the intoxicating scent rolling off his body. To say no to him just seemed like… the wrong option. 

“Morgana thought the same thing,” Ren said after a pause. “After we were done, he kept talking about his weird vibe, that he wasn’t getting a good feeling from him.”

“And that should be reason enough,” Haru explained. “Familiars are deeply attuned to us, so he should be acting as your moral compass. You should listen to him. And us.”

“Hey, relax,” Ren tutted. “It’s not like he’s offering me another gig. I’m assuming it was a one-time thing. He asked if he could reach out again, but I figure that’s just so he has a vampire in his contacts.”

“And if he reaches out again,” Makoto said from afar, already looking at her laptop. “You need to turn him down.”

“Seconded,” Haru followed up. “What about you, Ryuji?”

“Huh?” Ryuji looked up from restocking napkins in the dispenser and looked between the other three for guidance. He had totally spaced out. “Oh. Uh. Yeah, don’t do it.”

***

Ren thought over their guidance as he juggled his bag in his arm and fished for his keys in his pocket with a heavy heart. It was hard to just accept their words when they hadn’t been there and saw Akechi without the mask he wore to the public.

He was interesting and somehow insightful. He was curious and eager to learn, willing to listen. While shady, he was generous, and although he appeared deceiving, he was a gentleman who stuck to promises. Something about his warm brown eyes and soft, polite smile drew Ren in closer, like a siren’s song. Were his friends right? Would he wake up one day to find out he was a vulgar beast capable of unspeakable horrors?

“You’re really gonna doubt your friends?” Morgana asked, sticking his head out of the bag and spooking Ren, causing him to drop his keys. “Sorry…”

“That’s it,” Ren huffed as he opened up the door to their apartment and slid in. “I’m getting you a bell.”

“A collar will suffice,” Morgana said, matter-of-fact. “But seriously… Lady Haru knows what she’s talking about. And I can’t speak for Makoto or even that stupid Ryuji—”

“Long time no see.”

Yusuke’s soft welcome greeted Ren at the entryway. He was leaning over the kitchen counter with a bottle of synthetic  _ Vital Squeeze _ in hand, dressed casually in a white hoodie with the hood drawn up over his head and slim-fit black pants for bottoms. The apartment was, no surprise, a mess with discarded clothes and camera equipment plaguing the living room. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Ren weakly called back. Morgana was frozen in place with his paws on Ren’s left shoulder.

“And you’d better get used to it with the quarantine Ambassador Yoshida put in place,” Yusuke replied, looking down at a magazine, attention focused. Morgana quietly jumped down from Ren’s bag and quickly scurried to the bathroom. Yusuke’s dark gray eyes followed the noise and looked to Ren. Ren quietly swore. “... Did you bring home a friend?” Yusuke asked, a childlike curiosity present in his tired voice. 

“Ah, not exactly,” Ren began, looking over to the bathroom and seeing Morgana’s glowing blue eyes staring wide at the both of them.

“Oh? But I heard something talk,” Yusuke wondered. “And I sense … an additional presence.”

“You’re old,” Ren blurted out. “You must be hearing things.”

“No,” Yusuke murmured, scanning the apartment, his gaze listless. “My  _ extensive  _ experience would tell me that there  _ is _ something else here with us.”

“Ren,” Morgana’s soft voice whispered. “What do I do?”

“You can come out,” Yusuke answered for Ren, spinning to lean his back against the counter. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

“Bull,” Ren tutted, and watched as Morgana cautiously stepped out into the light, his knees bent so that his belly hovered just barely above the carpet. “Morgana, it’s okay.”

“You said the same thing with Ryuji,” Morgana complained, a long, scared meow hovering in the air. 

“A cat?” Yusuke asked, looking to Ren.

“A familiar.”

“Ah.”

“Haru asked that I look after him,” Ren explained. “He was separated from his original owner and was hanging out in an alleyway.” He shuffled in his stance, adjusting his frames on his nose. “It’s only for a little bit.”

Morgana stepped into the room now, a bit more reassured in his posture. Yusuke was watching him as a predator might observe prey from afar, the bottle of his synthetic blood pressed to his lips, eyes wide with wonder.

“Mmm,” Yusuke hummed in approval. “I see.”

“Uh,” Morgana looked to Ren. Ren shrugged and rolled his eyes as he stepped out of his shoes and hung up the tote bag. “Nice to meet you, I am Morgana.”

“Morgana,” Yusuke tested the name on his tongue, his outdated accent curling each syllable as his lips twisted into a smile. “Welcome to our humble abode. I am Yusuke Kitagawa. You’ve no doubt heard of my legacy?”

Morgana’s ears twitched, his eyes narrowed. “Umm, Ren said you’re his roommate.”

“Yes, this is true,” Yusuke chuckled. “I see Ren’s left me to tell you my tale? You’re a lucky one. I tell it much better than he does.”

“I’ll save you the trouble,” Ren muttered as he crossed to the closet to collect a fresh set of clothes and a spare, threadbare towel. “He’s old as dirt, he was turned by his mentor and he was a high-ranking member in a vampire circle with a castle somewhere in Italy. After they got flushed out of Europe and Asia by the World Wars, he’s ended up in America on the pursuit to become a social media influencer.”

Yusuke scowled and set his bottle down on the counter. “My dear,” he began, “you lack so much in taste and presence. I pity you.”

“Sorry,” Ren snorted a single laugh. “But his life story is too long for it being this late. Is it alright if I use the shower?” 

“Yes,” Yusuke said, irritated and finished. “Begone.” He shifted his focus to Morgana in an instant, his expression brightening. “Morgana, you lack something, too.”

“And what’s that?”

“A brand?” Yusuke asked himself. “No, an image… you’re in desperate need of contrast. Here, I might be able to find you something.”

After Ren’s shower, he’d found Yusuke was talking with Morgana in the other bedroom, a wistful look in his eyes as he recounted his rise and fall from glory. On his bed was a musty old box with a faded floral pattern, and Ren had noticed Morgana was wearing an ornate yellow-gold collar with a small bell. Morgana turned his head as Ren approached, and meowed excitedly.

“Look what Yusuke gave me!” Morgana chirped. “Oh, you’re not wearing your glasses.”

“Yeah, they’re fake. Oh, wow,” Ren murmured as he got a closer look at it. A soft inlay of Latin script was written on the side:  _ Amicus Alter Ipse _ , or, a friend is another self. “Why… did you have this?” 

“I had a familiar once,” Yusuke sighed sadly as he closed his eyes and lounged back onto his bed. “Many—”

“Many, many, many,” Ren interjected.

“— Years ago,” Yusuke finished, opening one eye to glare at Ren. After Ren smirked and bit his lip to avoid a laugh, Yusuke relaxed again, letting out another heavy sigh. “His name was Goemon. He was a brilliant white fox with a crimson red tail. He was… amazing. He was pure beauty.”

“What happened to him?” Morgana asked, his voice soft and innocent.

“We… parted ways,” Yusuke murmured, his expression melancholy as he addressed Morgana. “We had a disagreement. It’s been so long that I’ve even forgotten why we fought. He disappeared that day, and no matter how much I called for him or begged forgiveness, he’s never appeared.”

“Woah,” Morgana whispered. “I wonder if something similar happened to me… Maybe Goemon’s still out there, but he doesn’t remember who you are?”

“I would hate that,” Yusuke replied. “These centuries have been cruel to us all, but an existence on one’s own… I would hate to learn that I cursed my Goemon to something so lonely.” Yusuke looked back up to Ren and leaned forward to rest his chin on his knees, wrapping his arms around his shins, humming a sad note. “He doesn’t deserve the sentimentality, the fool, but Ren has saved me from a life of loneliness.”

“ _ You _ saved me,” Ren acknowledged, leaning against the doorframe. “I didn’t know a single thing or how to survive. I never had a mentor who taught me what was normal and what wasn’t.”

“This poor thing,” Yusuke smiled, the expression almost proud. “When I met him, he was always covered in hives and wouldn’t stop sneezing. He lived over an Italian restaurant. The fumes of the garlic would creep up into his studio apartment and nearly suffocate him.”

“But I’ve never wanted Italian food again,” Ren shivered, thinking of the miserable memory. He was less than a year old in terms of vampire years when Yusuke had found him then, alone and lending a hand at a local drag bar to cover the cost of rent and food. “Anyway, I’m going to go to bed. I’m beat.”

“Well, before you go, I wanted to ask you if Morgana could join me in one of my videos?”

“Whatever floats your boat, you guys don’t have to ask me. Morgana’s gotta say it’s okay.”

“Perfect. Close the door behind you then.”

“Mm.” 

Ren did as he was told with a yawn and drew back the curtains to their apartment windows on his way to the couch, noticing that dawn was approaching. As usual, once his head hit his pillow, he fell asleep immediately, the fatigue of the day snuffing out any life he had left in him. 

***

The shrieking ringing of Ren’s phone woke him up from a cold, deep slumber, sending a fever-hot pulse of sweat racing down his spine. He felt Morgana jump off of him and scramble to the floor, rustling the curtains on his way out. Daylight pierced through the room like a blinding ray, burning the exposed skin on Ren’s neck like a fresh sunburn as it made contact.

“Fuck,” he blurted out as he reached for his phone, squinting his eyes shut as his thumbs fumbled to look at the caller ID. 

_ Unknown _ .

Breathing a heavy sigh, Ren hastily accepted the call and looked to the clock across the room, the neon numbers reading 9:14 AM.

“Hello?” Ren asked, sleep slurring his speech.

“Hello,” Akechi’s voice was a soft purr through the tinniness of the phone with a certain pleasantness that felt plastic, an easy facade. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Ren took in a shaky breath and exhaled heavily, holding his left palm over his eyes and pressing in, willing away a growing headache that began to burn behind his eyes. “... Remember when I told you,” he began, “that vampires don’t go out in the day?”

“Allergies, right?”

“Yes, and,” Ren managed a wry chuckle. “We  _ sleep  _ during the day.”

“Oh,” Akechi hummed once as if he was thinking it over. Ren began to think that Akechi knew this already, and simply didn’t care. “I’ll try to consider that moving forward.”

“Moving forward?” Ren echoed, lifting his hand over his eyes slightly.

“Yes, that’s the manner of my call, actually.” Akechi inhaled, the sound soft and small, tickling Ren’s ear through the phone. “The interview with  _ Bloodthirsty  _ has caught the attention of a few charitable organizations aligned with the protection of humanity. They have an upcoming fundraising gala and they’ve graciously invited me.”

Ren rolled his eyes as Akechi spoke, laying his hand flat on his face and dragging it down as he carried on, wincing as he looked up to see the curtains were still slightly cracked, burning his skin. 

“It’s also sponsored by a civil liberties union representing vampires. The event is aiming to be largely bipartisan with a focus on peace between humans and vampires over dinner and… well I suppose,  _ True-O _ . There will be donors, celebrities, influencers, and—”

“A reason that you’re calling me this early?” Ren interjected, frustration consuming him as he got up to yank the fabric shut. 

Akechi paused over the phone for a few seconds. A few seconds too long, actually, so much so that Ren felt he had hit a nerve. Ren opened his mouth to speak and voice an apology, but through the speaker, he heard Akechi breathe a laugh.

“Politicians,” Akechi finished, his tone of voice flat now, cordiality spared. “And, I suppose most important to you and me, vampires. I see you’re a man who prefers to get to the point, I respect that, so I’ll be blunt. I need your assistance, again.”

Ren hesitated as he gathered the curtains in his fist, his mouth feeling dry, though not in the way of thirst. He hadn’t imagined this outcome, though he supposed he would be a moron to think it wouldn’t be a possibility. Makoto and Haru’s words were now fresh in his mind, begging him not to indulge Akechi any further, that he was nothing but trouble, he was suspicious, and that Ren was getting himself into something entirely bigger than himself.

“Ren?” Akechi asked, filling the silence. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Ren rushed, shaking his head and letting go of the curtains, running the hand through his hair instead as he sluggishly walked back to the couch. “I-I, uh, sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Akechi followed up. His tone was eerily calm. “For what?”

“I,” Ren huffed a sigh and clutched his black curls with a loose fist. “Yeah. I can do that. Just that night?”

“Well, yes, but,” Akechi murmured. “I was going to offer you … indefinite employment with me.”

Ren tried to swallow, but his throat wouldn’t allow it. Opening his eyes, he saw Morgana staring at him silently from the couch, his blue eyes glowing, expression blank as his ears twitched, listening. Ren looked away from him and turned towards the kitchen, his hand moving to rub at his shoulder.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean what I said. Indefinite employment. I’ll pay you per gig, and I’ll pay you out immediately after. Just like last time.”

“Can you afford that?” Ren asked, a knee-jerk reaction. 

Over the phone, he heard Akechi chuckle. “Of course. I wouldn’t offer you the position otherwise.”

“How much?” Ren followed up. “Three grand each time?”

“We’ll discuss payment after each event.” Akechi hummed once after he waited for Ren’s response, but after the appropriate pause, no answer came. “What? Are you worried I won’t pay you fairly?”

“No,” Ren murmured. “It’s not that.”

“So,” Akechi breathed, a sliver of irritation present in his tone. “What do you think? What do you say?”

Ren steeled himself as his grip on his phone tightened. Taking in a deep breath, Ren closed his eyes and steadied his stance. He could feel Morgana’s eyes burning a hole through his back, and yet he persisted. 

“Yeah,” Ren agreed through a heavy sigh. “When and where do you need me?”

Akechi hummed in approval and sighed happily. “I’ll text you the information for my apartment. Meet me there Friday at 6 PM. Dress nicely.”

“Define nicely.”

“No hoodies,” Akechi said flatly. “Or jeans. Nice. You’ve dressed  _ nicely  _ before, I hope?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ren grumbled. “For my funeral.”

Akechi was silent for a beat before he laughed awkwardly. “I see.” Ren could feel Akechi’s smile, however wry, over the phone. “Well, Mr. Amamiya, I’ll see you then.”

“It’s a date.”

Ren was the one to end the call this time, his thumbs racing to rapidly press over the red button until the three dial tone beeps signaled he was safe. He heaved a heavy sigh and pocketed his phone, feeling a burning rush in his cheeks as he approached the fridge and stared into its empty interior.

_ It’s a date. _ Could someone have  _ two _ funerals? Was that even possible?

Shutting the fridge, Ren turned back to the couch and was greeted with Morgana standing in his way, his piercing gaze narrowed to two glowing slits.

“What,” Ren asked, pocketing his hands. “Do  _ you  _ pay rent?”

Wordlessly, Morgana turned around and jumped off the countertop to the floor, and without giving him another glance, pushed his way into Yusuke’s cracked door and disappeared into the darkness. 

Ren huffed and raised his hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes to will his growing headache away.  _ ‘It’s a date’ _ he’d said. It certainly wasn’t the intention to sound so… lewd. He wondered how Akechi was reacting on his end if he was laughing if he was glaring at his phone with disgust. Either would have been fine, as long as he wasn’t thinking …

Ren growled with frustration, not only at the way he ended that stupid phone call but at himself. For not listening to his friends, for not listening to Morgana, and for dragging himself back into this. He decided to call it a day and go back to bed, but as he laid himself down to sleep, his parting words kept ringing in his ears like a hellish echo.

_ It’s a date. It’s a date. It’s a date. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends the third chapter of True-O! Thank you so much for sticking with me, and sincere apologies for the length. It... kinda got away from me. :^) This started as a small love-letter to Shuake, San Francisco, and the cringe-y vampire fandom I've thrived in for the past 15 years, and has been launched into my longest ongoing fanfiction (it is... 75 pages in Google Docs and it is LAGGING, but I'm proud). And now, for the obligatory thank-you corner...
> 
> As always, thank you to Sam, aka @CometSams, my beta and very good friend for encouraging me to write this to completion, and helping brainstorm with me to make that dream a reality. We're in it for the long haul, folks! Please consider giving her a follow on Twitter and check out her illustrations and online store. She's a lover of P5, Legend of Zelda, Genshin Impact, and an independent artist!
> 
> Thank you for 100 kudos! I am still very new to AO3 but I am profoundly grateful and humbled by your support. Thank you to everyone who's left a kudo, guest or not, and for those of you who have left a comment. Your support means so so SO much! <3 I'm also incredibly thankful to those who have left tips in my tip jar at buymeacoffee.com/maweea. I'll be reaching out to offer a personalized fanfiction/drabble as thanks. 
> 
> The next chapter will be planned to be up by the end of November / beginning of December. You can follow my Twit for more updates at @maweepa. I'm a heavy RT'er of Shuake and currently juggling this fic with my ongoing obsession with Genshin Impact. I'd love to chat!
> 
> See you in the next chapter, and remember to take care of yourself and be kind. <3 :")


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren accompanies Akechi on another mission where the unexpected occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Popping in to answer a few questions left by your generous comments in the last chapter before we begin!  
> Haru is a witch and a vampire, but witches are not formally 'out' like vampires are. Witches are 'born' beings and are still underground/practice their craft in secret, whereas the world knows that vampires are real and exist. Haru keeps her existence as a witch secret, as does Takemi! 
> 
> There are no plans to introduce other species of supernatural besides witches and vampires.
> 
> As far as your theories as to Akechi and Ren, I will leave them unanswered but greatly enjoy reading your speculations. >:) Wouldn't want to spoil the fun!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and see you at the end for notes!

Morgana hadn’t talked to Ren in a little over a day. He didn’t join him when the time came to go to work, and he didn’t sleep on him that night, as he normally did. When Ren woke up at dusk, he noticed that Morgana was watching him from Yusuke’s bedroom. The room was flooded with an awkward aura that threatened to suffocate them both, and before Ren could ask him what the matter was, Morgana had slinked away again, turning to give him a cold shoulder.

“I have to go over to Akechi’s place,” Ren said to the cracked door, knowing Morgana could still hear him. He didn’t respond. Ren scowled and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a stiff finger. “... Okay. Well, take care,” Ren said.

Ren waited for a beat for Morgana to speak, but again, nothing. Pursing his lips, Ren reached for his bag and slung it over his shoulder, quietly exiting the apartment. He wasn’t going to force Morgana anywhere - it didn’t seem fair. Nor was he going to force any words out of him. He knew that he was disappointed in him for going through with this deal, but just as Makoto, Haru, and Ryuji, he knew _nothing_ about being so hard for cash they turned to shady methods for a quick buck. Morgana was, in a way, another stress point for him. He didn’t think ethereal cat-familiars had to eat - maybe it was something like Ren… for the taste? - Or that he insisted on the slightly expensive varieties and stunk up his home with the stench.

Ren felt a sorrowful pang stab through his heart like a dull knife. It was out of character for him, especially after his thoughts on Morgana’s cold shoulder, until he remembered they shared a mind in close proximity. Did they share a heart, too? Was this what he felt?

Shaking it off, Ren quickly left his apartment building and readjusted the bag on his shoulder as he dug out his bus pass. He’d have to fill Morgana in on everything later, then.

Ren caught sight of his reflection in the glossy window of a bakery, and he took a moment to worry over his appearance as he waited for the bus arrival times to flicker across the stop’s monitors. He was dressed as nicely as he could, though unfortunately his clothing iron was on the fritz and threatened to kill him twice with a frayed wire. His white dress shirt was wrinkled and his black slacks, which doubled as his _StarVucks_ uniform, were frayed at the ends, the hem becoming undone with the use they’d gotten. He had borrowed the simplest tie from Yusuke, but due to the fact that he couldn’t tie a tie to save his life no matter how many videos he watched, it was loosened and knotted messily. His shoes were scuffed from the streets of San Francisco and the thousands of feet that had pressed up against his on the buses. Ren thought for a moment that he looked exactly like a rejected prom date, and looked up with relief as he found his first bus to Akechi’s apartment was arriving.

He took in a heavy sigh as he boarded and tagged in, taking a seat towards the back and holding his breath as a woman with an intoxicating scent sat across from him. The window was cracked and blowing her hair, picking up the scent of what Ren associated with vanilla and sandalwood. He instinctively took a deep breath in and felt his mouth water, his fangs itching as they peeked out of their hiding spot. Ren remarked that he should have fed himself before diving into this situation head-first. 

Ren was incredibly relieved when she pulled the request-stop cord and left at the next stop. Somehow, though, her scent lingered in the spot like a thick fog. He pulled out his phone to distract himself, turning to the text he had gotten that morning at 11. It was from a different number than the unknown calls Akechi had reached him through before. It seemed like a real number, so Ren texted him to let him know he was on his way.

The response was instant. ‘ _Good. Buzz Apt. 401 when you arrive._ ’

Ren blinked twice. He texted back, ‘ _sir, yes, sir.’_

Akechi didn’t reply, but the message had popped up as ‘Delivered, 5:45 PM’. He probably wasn’t one to make small talk over text messages, and Ren supposed for that, he was grateful. He dug into his bag to find his wired earbuds to listen to some music to space out and pass the time.

***

It took another bus and around twenty minutes for Ren to arrive at Akechi’s apartment building. It was located in Presidio Heights, an affluent neighborhood marked with multi-million dollar townhomes, artisan bakeries, and stylish boutiques lined the busier stretch of Sacramento St. As Ren got off the bus, he had checked the address to make sure it was correct, and felt a stab of jealousy and greed rip through his chest and settle in a dull stomach ache in his gut. 

The building was modern despite the Tudor-inspired surroundings, walls made with black, flat siding that reflected the setting sun and lit up the white-concrete interior in an amber glow. Ren approached the call box with a small sniff and punched in the button to 401, as requested. There was a small pause after the static from the box connected to the other line. It was quiet.

“It’s Ren Amamiya,” Ren said to the void. “Here for Goro Akechi—”

_“Second door on the right. Use the elevator,”_ a soft voice said, and after a beat, added, _“you’re late.”_

The call ended and the door clicked loudly as the lock was disengaged, a soft buzzer vibrating and signaling he could enter. Ren rushed out of an abundance of caution, knowing his call box back at home would only allow a few seconds before the lock would reset. Inside the apartment were glossy white and black tiles arranged into a floral pattern. It was a simple lobby with basic signs pointing to the stairs and elevator. It smelled warm and like laundry soap, which was a far cry from Ren and Yusuke’s lobby which smelled of piss and mold.

Ren took the elevator up, reminding himself that this was not common and glaring at his reflection in the steel doors opposite him as the mechanism took him up to the _fourth_ floor. 

“How did he get an apartment like this,” Ren whispered to himself, noting that there was only one other apartment on the floor with him. “Does he live by himself?”

If so, Ren would have fainted. Discussing rent within the city wasn’t exactly taboo, but it was on the same level of discomfort that Ren experienced when having to answer others whether or not he was a vampire. He reached the fourth floor and walked to Akechi’s door, and knocked on it lightly.

Again, a small wait, and Akechi was there. His brown hair was still damp from a shower, and Ren thanked a divine force that he was at least partially dressed in a white and black pinstripe dress shirt and espresso-brown slacks and black crew socks. His expression was soured like he’d just heard terrible news.

“What took you so long?” Akechi asked, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way so Ren could enter. 

Ren stepped in and hung up his bag on Akechi’s coat tree, still hovering by the doorway. “I don’t have a car. Had to take the bus.”

“That’s not a valid excuse. I don’t have a car, either,” Akechi tutted. He opened his mouth to further lecture Ren but paused as he fully took in Ren’s appearance, looking him up and down like he was the latest display at the SFMOMA as he raised his hand to his mouth, thinking. His brow furrowed and his nose wrinkled with disgust. “ _This_ is the best you could do?”

Ren looked down at his attire and pursed his lips as he met Akechi’s gaze again, raking a hand through his black curls. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“You wore this to a funeral? This isn’t acceptable,” Akechi scolded him. He paused a beat and looked over Ren once more, gaze hovering at the top of his head. “Hm.”

“I tried to do my hair,” Ren objected. “It just kind of … does whatever.”

“Stand up straight,” Akechi said, tone curt. Ren obeyed his command, rolling back his shoulders. Akechi thought for a moment to himself and nodded slightly behind his soft fist. He took Ren’s arm and raised it up from his side, placing his own arm next to it and humming slightly. “Wait a moment. This could work.”

Ren felt a sinking feeling as Akechi stepped further into the apartment and rounded a corner. Ren watched him disappear and stood awkwardly in the entry, sinking his hands into his pockets and looking around. It was a one-bedroom apartment from what Ren could tell. To the left, there was a small but full-sized kitchen. His countertops were a polished, shiny marble and his cabinets were a charcoal gray with brushed nickel finishings. Some dishes were scattered around his surfaces, small appliances like a toaster and a coffee-maker were shoved neatly into the corner, and cooking utensils were neatly stored in a stylish jar by his gas range. The place put Ren’s apartment to shame, and this was just the kitchen.

The apartment was painted a soft gray that edged on blue, and looked almost too… coordinated to be designed by a college student. His living room was to the right with a modest-sized flat screen and one of the latest consoles resting on the wrought iron-finished TV stand. A dark-gray sofa hugged the wall where abstract art with whites, reds, blues, and blacks was elegantly displayed. 

_He definitely killed someone for this,_ Ren thought to himself as he walked further in. It was reminding him that if he ever had human guests over to his apartment that they should at least… pretend to be more human. 

Along the wall next to the TV was an impressive bookcase, filled to the brim with various detective novels, a collection of law books, and university textbooks. He had a figurine of a cartoon character, which Ren remembered to be from Japan… Was it Weatherman? _Featherman_? 

Next to the figurine was a small framed picture of a young woman and what Ren could only assume to be a younger Akechi. He picked it up to look at it closer, the action driven out of instinct rather than curiosity. It felt… strange. Like he was looking at the picture through a dream.

“Ren?” Akechi asked. Ren sheepishly looked over his shoulder to see Akechi was poking his head around the corner and glaring at him, annoyance painting his features. “Quit nosing around. Come here.”

Ren shrank a bit and obeyed Akechi’s demand, hastily placing the picture back onto the bookcase and rounding the corner. Akechi sighed as he led Ren back into his bedroom, the room a modest size while still fitting a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, and a computer desk where a laptop sat, the screen illuminated to show an email inbox. Akechi shut the lid as Ren entered and pointed him towards the closet next to his en-suite bathroom.

“Okay,” Ren blurted out before Akechi could speak. “Which kidney did you sell to get this place?”

“What?” Akechi asked, bewildered and offended. It took him a moment to realize Ren was referring to his apartment, and when he did, he smiled, small and wry. “Oh. Well, it’s a long story.”

_He murdered someone,_ Ren thought, now completely sure of it. _I wonder where he hid the body._

“You’d be amazed what networking in this country can get you,” Akechi said after a beat, turning his attention back to his closet. On Akechi’s bed were the other parts to his own suit, but several other options were laid out along the bedspread. Again, Ren stood awkwardly in the corner like a dying houseplant, trying to make himself small. “That goes for many things in my life.”

“I see,” Ren murmured, not entirely convinced. He stared at the walls, wondering if they could talk. The apartment didn’t _smell_ like death, it actually smelled sweet and fragrant, like Akechi’s blood, though softer and less intoxicating. Like an alluring half-life of Akechi, he decided, and stepped closer to look at the suit pieces on the bed. 

“So,” Akechi sighed as he reset himself, plucking out a simple black suit jacket from the corner of his closet and laying it out over a white dress shirt paired with a gray wool vest. “What’s your shoe size?”

Ren paused for a moment, his brain finally connecting the dots. He felt like a moron. “You’re dressing me?”

“What an astute observation,” Akechi mocked him. “Your employment to me as my escort also means that my reputation lies with you and your appearance.” 

Ren felt a shiver roll up his spine. “I thought we agreed to not call it an escort,” Ren muttered.

“Your shoe size,” Akechi repeated, tone dripping in venom. “Please.”

“Ten and a half,” Ren answered quickly. He swallowed as Akechi crouched down to the bottom of his closet and plucked out a pair of shiny black dress shoes. “Are you sure about this? They’re going to be looking at you, anyway.”

“You’ve left me no choice,” Akechi sighed. “You’ll just have to front the cost of dry cleaning the items when we’re done.” He stood and turned to Ren, setting the shoes on the floor next to Ren’s feet. He pointed at the full ensemble laid out on his bed. “Go ahead. I’d wager we’re about the same size based on our height.” Akechi didn’t stay for the show, grabbing his own pair of shoes and leaving for the living room. “Just leave your clothes in here. Holler when you’re ready.”

Ren slid his head out from the messy tie and looked at the outfit with a critical eye. Akechi had more style than Yusuke, he hated to admit it, and _definitely_ more funds to coordinate these outfits. He dropped the tie to the floor and hastily undid his own shirt, not wanting to make Akechi wait any longer than he had to lest he get another lecture from a college student about being punctual. He left his clothes in a sloppy pile until he was dressed in nothing but his boxers.

“Jeez,” Ren muttered as he picked up the socks Akechi had even selected for them, noticing the designer logo on the ankle. He was completely out of his element. Might as well trust the process.

And yet, everything was _better_. As Ren slid his arms into the dress shirt and let it fall over his shoulders, he noticed how soft it was, and breathable to boot. There were no stray threads that had fallen loose from the hem. It was fresh from Akechi’s closet, but it lacked any wrinkles from being stored away. Ren moved to clasp the first button and encountered his first problem.

His chest was… a bit bigger than Akechi’s, it seemed. The button closed neatly, but Ren felt the tightness of the fabric cling to him like a second skin. It repeated as he buttoned the shirt fully, and as Ren took a breath in, he felt the fabric strain against him. He stretched out his arms, wincing slightly as the shirt fought the gesture, cutting into his biceps. Ren heard a small tear with his heightened hearing and felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. _Shit._

The pants were a similar situation - they fit, but only technically. Ren tucked in the shirt as best he could, and turned to see his reflection in a floor-length mirror. His ass was the first thing he noticed, and thank God, his bulge was tastefully … camouflaged with the fabric. Ren tried to swallow past the growing knot in his throat. The vest came next, and the suit jacket over top. They clung to him as much as everything else, but once Ren was fully dressed, he was amazed that it somehow looked decent, and not as confining and horrifyingly tight as it felt. 

“Done yet?” Akechi asked, walking back into his bedroom without a knock. Ren bit back a gasp of shock and stood up straight, his borrowed shoes in hand. Akechi gave him a once over with his pair of cold brown eyes, and strangely, a bit of him softened, though Ren was unsure of which part. “Oh. Much better.”

“What happened to ‘holler when you’re done’?” Ren balked.

“I forgot to get you a tie,” Akechi answered, as if it were obvious, and almost took offense to Ren’s shock. He opened up a drawer to his dresser and plucked a skinny black tie and a wider gray tie from the collection. Akechi approached Ren with both in hand, raising each to Ren’s neck and humming as he thought. “I take it you don’t know how to tie a tie?”

Ren stared back at him, holding his breath as Akechi drew closer, discarding the gray tie and opting for the black. In one fluid gesture, he swung the tie over Ren’s shoulders and tucked it under his collar, feeding the strip of fabric through and causing a chill to run up Ren’s spine. 

“What makes you say that?” Ren asked.

“Just looking at your sad excuse of a bachelor’s tie that you showed up with,” Akechi replied, his voice soft as he efficiently tied a knot, the intimacy of the volume not suiting his words a bit. “It’s alright. It took me a while to learn, too. Ah, which reminds me. I’ve been meaning to ask. How long have you been a vampire?”

Ren took in a shaky breath, Akechi’s scent flooding him and tantalizing his senses. He felt his nose buzz and his eyes soften as the soft notes of vanilla and maple swelled within him. His mouth began to water slightly, his hands softening out of the fists he had formed and aching as he fought back the urge to hold Akechi, draw him closer, and take him in even deeper. He swallowed back the temptation and softly cleared his throat, pushing on his fangs with his tongue as they threatened to penetrate into clear view. 

“About thirteen years,” Ren answered. 

“And you’ve been this age that entire time?” Akechi asked.

“Yeah,” Ren nodded stiffly, watching Akechi’s fluent hands as they expertly knotted the tie and tightened it to his throat. Ren reached up to stop him before he fully choked him, but Akechi swatted him away as if he were nothing more than a house-fly. “C-Careful.”

“Why would I choke you out, now,” Akechi asked, vexed, “after I asked you to accompany me to this?”

“You have a point,” Ren sputtered and backed away as he slightly loosened the tie, allowing himself an inch of breathing room. Ren sighed as he met Akechi’s gaze, noticing how he was still looking over him with a critical eye. “But are you seriously worried about getting attacked at an event like this?”

“Mm,” Akechi hummed in response, a non-answer.

Ren pursed his lips as the curiosity of it all dragged through him and tore him up inside. He swore he wouldn’t use it on another who didn’t deserve it, but…

Vampires were capable of a _certain level_ of persuasion. They could compel people into telling them what they wished, or do something in particular, just with a simple trick of the eye and change of tone. Ren wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, and nor was he a master at it, but he caught Akechi’s eye and held his stare as he tilted his chin down, finding himself in the cold darkness of Akechi’s gaze and planting himself there.

“Akechi,” Ren whispered, his voice almost inaudible as it slipped out of his parted lips and fell in front of him. “What do you _really_ want from me?” 

Akechi blinked once, but his expression was blank, unreadable. He hesitated around a response, his throat seizing up as the words struggled to reach the surface. Akechi raised his hands to Ren’s suit jacket and straightened out the edges, his fingers soft and delicate.

“I want you,” Akechi began, his tone stiff and his words short, “to stop asking stupid questions.”

Ren deflated visibly. _So much for that approach,_ Ren thought.

“Your glasses,” Akechi continued. “You took them off for the photoshoot for _Bloodthirsty_. Do you need them?”

Ren vocalized a hum in surprise, and took them off, offering them to Akechi. “No, they’re fake.”

“Really?” Akechi asked with a small smile as he accepted them. He ran his fingers over the frames, and held them up to the light, even setting them close to his eyes and chuckling softly. “Wow, you’re not kidding. Why would a vampire need fake glasses?”

“We don’t,” Ren responded, watching him with a certain amount of fascination. Akechi slid them onto his face and looked in the mirror, adjusting his hair. Ren smiled. “But I wear them because I think they make me look smarter.”

“Well,” Akechi turned to Ren to refute that, but as he looked Ren over his words failed him. Akechi’s lips were parted, but nothing came out. His brown eyes softened and looked over his features for a short while, and Ren wasn’t sure if it was the lighting from the dying sunset or if Akechi was almost… blushing. He let out a small puff and took off the glasses, handing them back to Ren before he grabbed his suit jacket, tie, and shoes and turned away. “You’re right. You look better with them.” 

Ren hesitated before he raised them to his face, able to smile fully now that Akechi had disappeared back into the living room. It gave him some time to slip into the shoes Akechi provided, noticing that they were the same size. He shuffled awkwardly to get them to conform to his arches once he had laced them up. Ren looked up to the mirror and found himself shocked by his appearance. He… _looked_ like himself, and if he were honest, there was hardly a part of his body left up to the imagination with the way the suit conformed to him, but he felt like he was wearing a disguise. 

He exited Akechi’s bedroom a moment later, tousling his hair with his fingers. Akechi was looking over his phone, his eyebrows furrowed, and did not look at Ren as he emerged. Ren turned his sights back to the framed picture on Akechi’s bookshelf and approached it, trying to catch another glimpse at it before Akechi scolded him again. Something about it… felt _so_ strange.

“What are you doing?” Akechi asked with his back turned to Ren.

“Just looking to see what you like to read,” Ren lied.

“Hah,” Akechi puffed a dry laugh. There was a small pause as Akechi locked his phone and slid it into his breast pocket. He approached Ren and followed his gaze, breathing in with some effort and holding it in, his chest puffed out and his expression hinting a deep discomfort, expertly hidden. “Oh.”

“Is this... you?” Ren asked cautiously.

Akechi breathed out as he reached forward to pick it up, gliding his thumb across the simple frame. “It is.”

“...And your mother?” Ren felt it was probably best not to dive deeper, but the nagging desire to find the missing piece of this mental puzzle was quickly driving him insane. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, as if to preface his inappropriate snooping. 

“No, no,” Akechi shook his head softly. “It’s fine.” He replaced the photo on the shelf and crossed his arms, staring at the contents. “I lost her when I was very young.”

“What happened?” Ren spoke before he could stop himself and internally cursed himself for his lack of manners.

Akechi breathed out from his nose. “She was brutally attacked by a vampire,” he began, “as was I. They drank every last drop from her body right in front of me. I thought they’d do the same to me,” Akechi’s voice trailed off as he pursed his lips, his eyes narrowed as if he were having trouble remembering. “But… they didn’t.”

Ren tried to swallow past the knot in his throat as he listened to Akechi’s words, hoping that it would bring him to some kind of realization, and feeling a heavy weight in his stomach when it didn’t. “They spared you?”

“In a sense,” Akechi hummed softly. “If it weren’t for a stranger stepping in, I probably wouldn’t be here. Of course, their sacrifice came at a great cost.”

Ren’s eyebrows lifted as he took in the tale, thinking it would make an interesting comic book. He glanced away from the picture and to Akechi, caught off guard when he found him staring straight at him, entirely focused and trying to read Ren’s expression. 

“It’s a blur,” Akechi explained slowly, his gaze unbreaking. “I think my savior went through an excruciating transformation after they’d been bit. They were in such severe pain. I think I remember that part the most.” Akechi waited for Ren to respond, but when Ren only continued to stare back at him, listening closely, he continued with a small sigh. “Vampires weren’t known to the larger public until a few years ago, as you know, but … I became one of the few that began to suspect our world wasn’t as simple as it seemed from a very young age.” Akechi reached up to Ren’s shoulders to pick off a stray piece of lint. He cleared his throat softly. “I… would like to ask you a question that could be inappropriate.”

Ren’s brow furrowed. “Shoot,” he said. “I was pretty out of line, too.”

Akechi hummed a laugh, the sound fake. “Do you remember how you… turned? Is that the correct word for it?”

“Yeah,” Ren nodded. Akechi would be disappointed with his answer, sadly. “I don’t really remember it that well,” he explained. “I remember it was dark out, and all of a sudden, it was freezing, but the inside of my body felt like it had been lit on fire.” Ren shrugged apologetically. “The person who had turned me had left long before I woke up.”

“You really _don’t_ remember?” Akechi echoed him, tilting his head to the side.

“I don’t,” Ren sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why would you apologize?” Akechi chuckled softly as he plucked his phone out from his breast pocket, checking the screen. “It’s not as if you could help it. Our ride is here, by the way.”

“Our ride?” Ren raised an eyebrow. “Did you order yourself a limo?”

Akechi’s eyes narrowed slightly at Ren, though he managed a wry smirk. “Please,” he scoffed. “Limos are out of style. It’s all about helicopter entrances, now.” 

Ren puffed a laugh. “Okay, James Bond.”

“Come along, then,” Akechi sighed as he picked up his keys and opened the door for Ren, waving him through. “We can’t be late.”

***

The ride there was entirely uneventful — Akechi had ended up ordering a ride on a ride-share app, telling him that perhaps _if_ he gained more notoriety, a helicopter might be in their future. The notion made Ren smile, and he watched as Akechi stared wistfully out the window, the amber street lights of the city reflected in his soft brown eyes.

Their destination was an expensive venue near Union Square, the _Parc 55_ Hotel. It held an event center inside, clearly marked by yellow ivory signs and directions scrawled in an Edwardian script. Two attendants checked both Akechi and Ren in and provided them with simple lanyards with their names laminated onto simple cards. They directed them to take a seat at their designated table number, which for them was Table #8. 

The space was already bustling with a thick crowd of guests who mingled around twenty-four tables decorated simply with clear crystal centerpieces and white tealights. Waves of sound rippled across the room like fierce water at an ocean’s shore, some areas more concentrated than others, some laughing jovially and causing others to turn their heads to find the source. It reminded Ren of a wedding reception than the space to hold a fundraiser, but that in itself was not saying much. He’d never been to a wedding _or_ a fundraiser. This was entirely new waters for him. 

And Akechi moved through the space with practiced ease, his expression pleasant though his eyes were focused as they drifted along the room, scanning each face of each patron with careful precision.

“I’d like you to just stick around me,” Akechi neared closer to Ren and spoke softly as they entered the event space and were swallowed up by the crowd. Ren instinctively held his breath. “No need to sniff out other vampires, unless you just simply feel like it.”

“Should be fairly easy,” Ren mumbled as he stepped away from Akechi and breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of the room. He still noticed Akechi’s distinctive scent and fought hard to push past it. He swallowed down the raw, almost animalistic thirst it threatened to send him into. 

“Goro Akechi?” A male voice asked, cutting through the crowd.

Akechi turned to the voice and smiled pleasantly, his face lighting up with delight. “Tobias Parker,” he said, his voice melodic and welcoming as he extended his hand to shake. “It’s been so long…”

Ren could recognize Akechi’s polite and cordial exterior as a mask plain as day. Behind each practiced smile, each laugh that sounded like the soft ring of a bell, and every hum that showed he was listening carefully was the true interior of Goro Akechi, a man of vigilant planning and a plan behind his beautiful, charming stare. He could have almost played the role of a prince. Ren watched as he conversed with the growing bubble of guests, informing them of his plans after graduation, and, yes, amid all of this chaos, he still found _some_ time to study. Each conversation was an intricate waltz, and Akechi knew every single step. 

Before long, a middle-aged man, quite possibly in his late fifties or early sixties, came up onto the raised stage at the back of the ballroom. The microphone whined with a sharp feedback and Ren winced as the sound dug through his heightened hearing and rang loudly. He noticed a smaller population of the room reacted similarly, even gasping with shock and making muffled complaints. 

“Sorry, sorry,” the man hastily apologized as he palmed the microphone. “I don’t mean to interrupt your lively discussions, but I thought now would be an excellent time to announce that our open bar is now available and taking orders. We have a full liquor bar and select soda products courtesy of the _Parc 55_ , as well as the full selection of flavors of _True-O_ that can be mixed into any drink you wish. Thank you!”

The man left the stage and the discussions resumed at a lower volume as the room began to equally distribute with a few blobs migrating to the full bar on the opposite side of the room.

“Would you like me to grab you something?” Ren asked after Mr. Parker shifted his focus to another guest in their bubble. 

“Hmm,” Akechi nodded and fished out a five-dollar bill from his inside pocket, handing it to Ren in between two forefingers. “Here’s a tip for the bartender.”

“What do you want?” Ren asked, taking the bill and holding it at eye-level, hesitating. “Wait. Are you old enough to drink?” 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Akechi said through a huff. “Whatever’s fine. Help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

Ren bounced his eyebrows in lame shock as he turned on his heel and began weaving his way through guests to the back of the ballroom towards the bar. As he apologized for butting in between several conversations, Ren thought over Akechi’s words — ‘Don’t be an idiot’. Akechi was nearing graduation from Sterkeley’s undergraduate program and remembered that Haru and Makoto were the same level of education as Akechi, which would mean that Akechi was at least twenty-two or twenty-three if he was being generous. While Ren was _technically_ eight years older, he still had the body of an eighteen-year-old teenager, he felt a bit out of his element. Maybe he wasn’t the one to be ridiculing Akechi for being old enough to drink a beer.

Which was another question Ren was struggling with. ‘Whatever’s fine’. What was off-limits? What did Akechi like? Judging by his apartment and his taste in fashion, would he be a wine drinker? And if so, what kind? Red or white? Ren reminded himself there were also pink wines to worry about, and in the off chance he was a beer drinker, which label would he prefer?

Ren noticed he would have plenty of time to deliberate as the line was fairly long to begin with and was moving slowly. He sighed heavily and fussed with his hair and his suit, rolling back his shoulders carefully as to not tear any fabric. 

“Wow,” a male voice said beside him. “One word of an open bar and half the hall comes running,”

Ren turned to see a taller bespectacled man in his late thirties strike up a conversation with him. He had a friendly aura about him, his dark brown eyes soft and his short dark hair unkempt. He wore a long white lab coat over a simple black suit with a white dress shirt and skinny black tie. 

Ren smiled politely at his observation and swayed back and forth on his heels. “Haha, I know, right?”

“Can’t say I blame them,” the man continued with a small sigh. “These fundraisers wouldn’t get the money they need if they didn’t loosen up their donors with a little liquid courage.” He made a small noise of surprise, as if he’d embarrassed himself, and stuck out a hand for Ren to shake. “Sorry, where are my manners — I’m Dr. Takuto Maruki,” he introduced himself.

“Ren Amamiya,” Ren replied, and shook his hand. Maruki’s grip was firm but polite, filled with a certain enthusiasm that Ren was taken off guard by. _Where did that name feel familiar..._

“I must say,” Maruki began, and repeated his note of surprise once he noticed the line had moved and they could walk a few paces forward. “It’s not often you see young people at an event like this.”

“Oh,” Ren chuckled sheepishly. “I’m not exactly here on my own. I came with someone else. Goro Akechi?”

“Oh!” Maruki gasped at the name, but seemed pleased, his smile polite. “Wow, Goro Akechi,”

A bartender waved Ren forward and Ren looked back at Maruki and mouthed he’d be right back. Ren ordered his usual, a bottle of _True-O_ AB, and looked at the small signs describing the bartenders’ special drinks. Some were blended with _True-O,_ just like the nightclub _Fang_ offered, and others were meant for a more human taste. Ren opted for the first option he saw not containing blood. 

Maruki was next to order and ordered himself a _True-O_ type A. As Ren accepted his warmed bottle of synthetic blood, he looked at Maruki with confusion, his eyes narrowing. Maruki flushed and laughed sheepishly, pointing to Ren’s drink.

“Sorry, did I mishear? You’re with Goro Akechi?” Maruki asked.

Ren bit his lip around a small smile. “No, you heard right.”

“Hmm,” Maruki received his drink from the bartender and smiled at Ren. “I just never thought I’d see a vampire in Goro Akechi’s company.”

“Me either,” Ren admitted with a small chuckle.

“So,” Maruki took a small sip from his bottle and stepped out of the way of the other guests. His tone dropped, and he cupped a hand around his mouth, leaning to whisper to Ren. “How much is he paying you to be here?”

Ren felt his blood turn to ice in his veins and a hot sweat spark on the back of his neck. Despite himself, his lips parted and he vocalized an _“Oh, uh—”_ in surprise. “Well—”

Maruki’s laugh cut Ren off, the sound jovial and light-hearted. “I’m only joking,” he reassured Ren and patted his back with a wide palm. “Don’t worry.” Another guest grabbed Maruki’s attention, and regrettably, he was taken away. “It was nice to meet you, I’ll meet up with you later! I have a lot to ask you.”

Ren waved weakly as he left, and was alerted by the bartender that Akechi’s drink was ready. He thanked them and slid the five-dollar bill in the tip jar and fought the crowd to return back to Akechi’s side.

On his way there, Ren’s memory finally kicked into gear. Dr. Takuto Maruki… he was the prolific vampire doctor behind the drug trial that provided total immunity to sunlight for ninety days. Takemi was working closely with him on it, contributing the research she’d gathered from pedaling experimental ‘medical’ solutions to poor saps like Ren. He kicked himself out of frustration, thinking how stupid he was for not asking him the burning questions he had about the trial drug, and if he could volunteer himself for testing. 

Akechi was still busy with the small group that had gathered, thankfully, and hadn’t noticed his prolonged absence, or if he had noticed, hadn’t cared. Ren handed him his beverage and nodded when Akechi softly thanked him and took a sip.

“Mm,” Akechi hummed pleasantly and turned to Ren. “What’s in this?”

Ren shrank slightly, hiding behind a sip from his bottle. “I… don’t know. Alcohol.”

“Ah,” Akechi took another sip from it and gave Ren a critical glare. “You possess an _outstanding_ eye for detail.” 

“Says the opinionated man who said _‘Whatever’s fine’_ ,” Ren tutted.

Akechi sighed and turned back to the group. “Touché,” he purred in an irritated tone. 

The older man who had informed the ballroom of the open bar took to the microphone again, this time without the obnoxious feedback, and cleared his throat just out of range before he spoke. 

“Alright, folks, I’d like to thank you again for joining us at the second annual gala benefiting the outreach efforts of Coalition of Peace,” the man announced. “Beginning shortly we’ll serve various hors d'oeuvres, so please feel free to continue mingling during that time. In about thirty minutes, we will begin our silent auction where we will auction off items to benefit the ongoing funding of the VCLU and other organizations providing outreach and assistance to those afflicted with the VA-1440 virus. Our headline item is a private sunset cruise around the bay with Representative Masayoshi Shido!”

_“Good Lord,”_ Akechi whispered in disgust under a round of heavy applause. Ren turned his head to Akechi, but Akechi did not acknowledge Ren. He just stared forward, his brow furrowed as he took a hearty sip from his drink.

“Afterwards, we’ll have a presentation of the outstanding work going on within the Coalition of Peace, which every day strives to create a safe world for both vampires and humans across 55 nations. I look forward to spending the evening with you in celebration of our ground-breaking work over the past year!”

The room erupted into applause again with some hearty cheering. Akechi clapped along as well, though he looked thoroughly disinterested. As the man exited the stage, Akechi turned to him and placed a hand on the back of Ren’s arm, beginning to pull him in a different direction.

“Follow me,” he spoke softly as he stepped past Ren. Ren nodded and followed his lead. 

Akechi took him to a less populated corner of the ballroom, standing near the exit where some stragglers were still meandering in. He positioned himself so that he was facing the rest of the ballroom, and Ren was standing in front of him, acting as a wall. 

Akechi took another long sip from his beverage as his eyes swept the room. “Find anyone of interest?” He asked as he shifted his balance to his right leg. 

Ren hummed an affirmation. “Dr. Takuto Maruki,” he said. “He made some conversation while we were waiting at the bar.”

“Dr. Maruki,” Akechi murmured. “I suppose it makes sense he’s here with his medical research looking to benefit vampires,” he continued, almost as if he was talking to himself. “What did you talk about?”

“Oh,” Ren shook his head and waved his hand, trying to shake Akechi from the meaningless chase. “He just cracked a joke about people needing booze to spend money on something like this.”

Akechi let out a wry laugh. “He’s not wrong.”

“What’s the deal with Representative Shido?” Ren asked. Ren wasn’t one to get into politics, but he knew he had heard the name tossed around between Haru and Takemi before. “You not in the mood to schmooze him in the sunset-lit bay?”

Akechi’s head turned to Ren and his eyes narrowed to a venomous stare, his gaze searching Ren’s for some malicious intent. “Are you serious?” He scoffed once he didn’t find the answer he was looking for and rolled his shoulders back with a heavy sigh. “I’d rather gouge my eyes out and plug them into my ears so I couldn’t hear his disgusting —”

“Ren?” A soft voice called out. Akechi ceased his complaining, his eyes widening. Ren turned around in the direction of the voice and met a familiar gaze. “Ren! I wasn’t sure if that was you.”

Haru Okumura was there in a blush-colored tea-length dress, her fluffy auburn hair artfully curled with a small black bow near her right temple. Her smile was equal parts confused and overjoyed, but it dissolved into concern when Ren stepped to the side and Akechi came into full view. 

“Haru,” Ren breathed, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“And… Goro Akechi,” she smiled politely. “How do you two do?”

Ren watched in fear as Akechi mirrored Haru’s smile, putting on his best mask for her. “Ms. Haru Okumura,” Akechi said pleasantly as he lowered his drink. “I wasn’t aware you two knew each other,” he remarked, looking to Ren for answers.

Ren blanked and turned to Haru for an excuse. She giggled and approached them, patting Ren’s arm fondly. “We’re actually quite good friends,” she explained, her tone as sweet as honey. Her hand settled on Ren’s shoulder, and the air between her and Ren soured as her touch lingered just a second too long. “If I knew Ren was coming, I would have arranged you both to sit at me and my father’s table.” Ren felt an intense fear well up in his stomach as she patted him again, each pat firmer than the last. She tilted her head innocently to Akechi. “Are you here with someone, Mr. Akechi?”

“Just Akechi’s fine,” Akechi insisted with a soft chuckle. “And, no, I’m just here with Ren tonight. He graciously agreed to accompany me and… enlighten me on some of the inner workings of the vampire community.”

“Oh!” Haru exclaimed, with another firm pat to his back. Ren felt a bit of his dinner coming up to revisit his throat, all color draining from his face. “That’s so nice of you, Ren. I thought you’d be busy working?”

“I-It just kind of worked out,” Ren explained through a slight stammer, laughing awkwardly. “Besides, free food, right, Akechi?”

“Right,” Akechi sighed happily. “Free food. We love it.”

“Yeah,” Haru hummed.

An uncomfortably long pause grew from the trio’s interactions. It turned into a stalemate of plastic smiles and fake laughter, each member hoping the other would speak first to end the torment. Ren looked to Haru and knew the moment he was free from Akechi for the evening, she’d be unrelentingly scolding him for going against the better judgment of his friends. Once Haru left, Akechi would grill Ren on how he was connected so familiarly to the heiress of an overseas snack-food monopoly. And yet, neither was willing to concede from the prolonged silence. 

“Ms. Okumura,” a female called from a smaller group near the stage. “Your father wants you!”

“My apologies,” she whispered. “I have to step away. It was very nice to meet you, Akechi. I’ll talk to you later, Ren.”

And finally, a third of the overwhelmingly uncomfortable lifted, and Ren was left with just Akechi. Akechi watched Haru as she hurried back over to her small collection of company and raised his drink back up to his lips, taking in a short sip.

“She’s nice,” Akechi commented.

Ren squirmed slightly, shuffling in his stance. “Yeah, she really is.”

“Well,” Akechi hummed. “We better get back to it. Let’s go,” he said, and walked past Ren, back into the sea of people.

Akechi and Ren were quickly absorbed back into the fold, and Akechi wasted no time slipping back into his princely persona, smiling softly at others and greeting them with a pleasant lilt in his voice. Ren tuned most of it out, not caring to listen to the boring small talk of two strangers introducing each other, and Akechi’s repeated answers.

_“You’re graduating with two majors?”_

“Yes, political science and criminal justice.”

_“And you’re an honors student on top of it?”_

A soft laugh. “Yes, within the top ten of my graduating class.”

_“When did you have the time to write a book, on top of all of this? Aren’t winter finals coming up for you?”_

“I think you underestimate the time in between classes. I suppose ensuring that our communities are safe and our citizens are taken care of… that _is_ my hobby.”

Ren suppressed an eye roll as Akechi continued on, but felt a twinge of jealousy well up within him. Due to him being infected with the vampire virus so early in his life, he really didn’t get to experience the end of high school or pick which college to go to. A plus side, he supposed, was that he never had to deal with loans, dorms, or college exams or papers. Still, a deep part of him wondered what it would be like, and if it was still possible. Would they suspect him with how young he appeared? 

Ren took a long drink from his bottle and noticed that the attention of their small group had fully turned to Akechi, and they were asking questions left and right about Akechi’s upbringing, his history, and his ideology.

He listened closely as Akechi retold his tale of his mother’s tragic death to a vampire at a young age, and that her attacker had never been caught, nor faced any consequences for his heinous actions. Akechi described how he watched the vicious transformation of a bystander who tried to save him.

“It was obvious to me when the vampire community stepped forward two years ago that… that was what I’d encountered that night,” Akechi continued. 

A bald middle-aged man, quite possibly in his late forties or early fifties entered the circle. Few murmured and whispered to each other about his entrance, and with Ren’s sharpened hearing, he heard the name _‘Shido, Shido, Masayoshi Shido.’_ Shido said nothing and listened to Akechi, his eyes open, interested, behind his tinted glasses.

Akechi glanced at Shido, and Ren took notice of this once he felt the air around them change. It was now no longer a simple Q&A with the bright, young student from Sterkeley with the new book. Ren noticed the atmosphere became thick with tension, though most of it originated from Akechi while Shido stood, casually listening, and sipped idly at his shallow glass of whiskey. 

“And when is your book coming out?”

“It should be out sometime next week. I hope you look forward to it.” Akechi smiled, though his eyes were empty as if he were focused on something else. “As well as my interview with _Bloodthirsty_ Magazine.

“But, it was a vampire who saved you,” a woman observed as she palmed her bottle of _True-O_. “In the end, you must realize that.”

“Yes,” Akechi hummed. “I do realize that. I think in the midst of worrying about our safety, we forget that vampires were once humans, too. And they deserve every bit of respect that humans receive on a daily basis.”

“Akechi,” a man spoke up, “This is a change of stance, is it not?”

“It’s not,” Akechi answered. “I’ve always believed this, but everyone always cared to report about my more ‘controversial’ ideas,” he breathed an airy laugh as he said this, his smile turning scornful. “But if I’m honest, I am deeply concerned about the recent news of Miwa’s death and the discovery of a mutation to the VA-1440 virus. I think that our officials should be prioritizing all of their research into handling that, lest we have any other great tragedies.”

“If I may cut in,” Shido spoke, and all of the heads in the group had turned to listen to him. Akechi nodded stiffly, his gaze hardening. “I’ve been communicating with some of the leading doctors in our community, including that of Dr. Takuto Maruki. We’re putting our full efforts into funding the investigation and seeing it to completion in the most thorough and quickest way possible.” 

As Ren listened to Shido speak, a faded memory tugged at the back of his mind, in much of the same way he felt like he’d been absent for a crucial moment when he looked at the photo in Akechi’s apartment. He winced slightly but hid his emotions behind another drink from his bottle.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” A woman asked. “That the vampire responsible… snapped?”

“Snapped,” Shido began, “isn’t the word I would use exactly.”

“Then what _word_ would you use?” Akechi asked. Ren glanced to Akechi and saw his jaw was clenched, his shoulders rigid and taut.

Shido chuckled softly and swirled the whiskey in his glass with a languid grasp. “Well, I would call it what it was. A vampire in distress over a host of symptoms caused by a virus we know nothing about.”

“So,” Akechi pressed further, “you would say that the vampire responsible for slaughtering Miwa in her apartment was innocent?”

Shido’s face turned from diplomatic to stoic, his eyes hard as he stared back at Akechi.

“There are multiple details about the investigation we can’t talk about, yet,” Shido explained. “However, I admire your tenacity and passion. They sure are teaching their students the right level of drive in those Sterkeley classes, aren’t they?”

The focus of the conversation had quickly turned away from Akechi and the masses began questioning Shido on the investigation if there were any other details he could share, and then transitioned completely to Shido’s accomplishments and favorability.

_“How’s the research going for the sunlight immunity drug?”_

_“Have you spoken with Ambassador Yoshida lately?”_

_“Will you run for Ambassador to Vampire next cycle?”_

Ren glanced at Akechi and found he was staring at Shido with a cold gaze, his expression formed into a charming facade as his eyes told the whole story. Ren thought it reckless, acting so openly right in front of Shido like this, and reached to lightly tap the back of Akechi’s arm. Before he could do so, the older man at the microphone was back, instructing the guests to please make their way to their tables so they could begin the silent auction. 

Akechi turned in his stance in an instant, routing back to Table #8 without looking back to see if Ren was following. Ren swore under his breath and quickly maneuvered past a small group of patrons to catch up with him.

“Hey,” Ren whispered. “Are you doing alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” Akechi answered, his tongue sharp like a whip as he sat himself down. “We’ll discuss it later.”

Ren settled for the fact that he’d have to wait to understand why Akechi had turned so cold in the wake of a famous politician. Was it because the spotlight had turned to someone other than himself? As Ren sat down in his seat next to Akechi and glanced his way, he threw out the idea, knowing Akechi could be confident enough in himself as a person that attention being shifted away from him would hardly be a matter to shatter his ego. 

The silent auction began with an interlude about the latest advancements in social policies benefiting both humans and vampires alike thanks to the Vampire Civil Liberties Union and the Coalition of Peace. A branded PowerPoint displayed numbers and graphs with excellent growth, and for what, Ren didn’t care to listen. Instead, he observed the other patrons at their table who looked on to the presentation with rapt attention. Servers maneuvered the space and offered refreshments, appetizers, and delivered items upon request. Elsewhere, Ren could hear the clinking of dishes in a kitchen and the muffled speech of the staff.

Akechi stared forward, his loose fist pressed lightly to his lips, blinking idly as he listened to the presentation. He glanced at Ren once, but offered no instructions and divulged no opinion on how the evening was going. He even neglected to check in on Ren, which suited Ren just fine if Akechi was going to continue to act sour. _Better leave him alone_ , Ren decided, and turned back to the speaker with him. 

Ren took another drink from his bottle as the speech went on another ten minutes, thinking he should have ordered something with alcohol to at least pass the time. Before he could flag down a server, the stage was exchanged with a round of applause to another presenter, back to the older man with the tendency to send the microphone into a squealing fit. 

“Sorry,” he apologized softly once more, and visibly began to sweat as the vampires in the room squirmed and sighed with discomfort. “Could we get another round of applause for Cassius Galindo’s presentation?” And the audience obliged, clapping again, a bit more muted as their irritation for the man grew. “And now, we’ll begin the silent auction! You all should have a bidding card placed in front of you. Please do not switch these numbers, as they are connected to you specifically. We’ll be auctioning off a variety of items, all of which will go towards the ongoing funding of the VCLU and other organizations providing outreach and assistance to those afflicted with the VA-1440 virus. And without further ado, we’d like to present our first item up for bid…”

A large gift basket wrapped in red cellophane was brought up onto the stage, fastened with a black bow. Ren squinted to get a better look and saw a few _True-O_ labels hidden under the wrapping. 

“A perfect gift for that special vampire in your life,” the man explained, “this gift is filled with an exclusive, limited-release synthetic blend of _True-O’s_ most popular _“_ flavors” and premium wines such as pinot noir, merlot, and cabernet sauvignon. These items have not yet been made available to the general public, so this gift basket will be available to the highest bidder, with the bid starting at 70 dollars. Who would like to bid 70— I see 70, right away, excellent, how about 80? 80 dollars to bidder number 134. Do I have… 100 dollars? Excellent, very good! Thank you. Would anyone like to challenge the bid for 125 dollars?”

“You know,” Ren murmured. Akechi glanced at him again, turning his head slightly. “It’s not that hard to mix it in yourself. You just have to pair up the type you like with whatever complements the flavors. They’ve been doing it since the 1500s, at least.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Akechi said plainly after a short pause. He turned his head back to the stage without another word.

Ren kept his eyes on Akechi, noticing that while he was staring at the stage, it looked like his mind was elsewhere. He didn’t even applaud when the highest bidder took home the collection of _True-O_ wine for four hundred dollars. Ren winced at the price, thinking it was a bit too much for something Yusuke taught him how to do within his first seven months as a vampire.

The next items ranged from front-row seats at the next major league baseball game at the stadium at South Beach to all-inclusive weekend trips to Lake Tahoe and _Destinyland_. All went at mind-boggling prices that Ren couldn’t fathom, including a wine-tasting trip to Napa Valley with a local celebrity, which went for a few grand. 

Ren quickly tuned out the rest of the auction, checking his phone for anything of interest. There were a few texts from Yusuke, which included a monologue about the harmful effects of the online beauty community on his psyche and finally, asking Ren how to clean out a litter box. Haru had also texted him as well thirty minutes prior, _‘So, when were you going to tell me you were going to this with Akechi?’_

Ren locked his phone and placed it back in his breast pocket, his cheeks turning red with the embarrassment and dread of the upcoming verbal ass-kicking he’d be handed from his friends once word spread about Ren’s continued situation with Akechi. He decided to ignore his phone for the remainder of the evening, even though his restlessness was reaching a record peak. 

It seemed a similar effect was occurring at nearby tables. Some patrons rolled their shoulders with discomfort and others were sleepily looking at their phones. One woman lazily swirled her wine in her glass, hypnotizing her as she stared at the small film that clung to the edges of the glass. A guest who was seated with his back to Akechi kept dabbing at his forehead as sweat pooled at his temples. He grunted and cleared his throat, reaching forward for his bottle of _True-O,_ pale fingers trembling visibly. 

Ren looked to Akechi to see if he had noticed, but Akechi still stared forward, brown eyes disinterested, disengaged, expression listless. Ren opened his mouth to say something to Akechi but feared that if he spoke too loudly the man would hear. Instead, Ren took a small sip from his bottle and felt his eyes draw back to the man.

His table was also focused too much on the auction to notice his behavior, and with a quick glance around Akechi and Ren’s table, they were listening intently, speaking quietly amongst themselves. Ren kept waiting for the man to get up and leave for the restroom, thinking maybe he was struggling with indigestion, but the man stayed. At one point he leaned into the table, breathing in shakily. His hands gripped the edge of the round table, the skin over his knuckles blanching white. 

“And now, the item I’m sure you’ve been saving your bids for,” the man on the stage announced. “Our headline item, a private sunset cruise around the bay with Representative Masayoshi Shido…”

To Ren’s surprise, Akechi _didn’t_ reach for his paddle, even as the rest of the room did. The energy within the ballroom swelled as the sleepy patrons looked up from their phones, each with a hungry look in their eye. Akechi still stared idly, though instead of at the stage, his stoic glare was pointed at Masayoshi Shido himself, who stood up from his table and waved diplomatically to the rest of the room. As the man on stage detailed the opportunity, he announced that the opening bid would be set at one thousand dollars. 

Bidders across the room eagerly raised their paddles in waves, which caused the man to stutter and stammer. 

“Perhaps that was too generous?” He asked. “We’ll raise the bid to two thousand dollars.” 

Many paddles still hung in the air. The man on the stage dabbed a bit of sweat from his forehead. “Ah, then we’ll take the bid up to two thousand five hundred dollars...”

Ren’s eyes turned to the uncomfortable vampire again, seeing he had paled considerably, his hand that was clutching at the table turning a bluish hue from the strain. Ren bit his lip out of concern and looked up to see if servers were still bobbing in and out of the seated guests. They were absent, all of them mingling in the back of the ballroom near the bar. 

“Four thousand seven hundred twenty-five? Folks, this is an incredible showing, and we are incredibly grateful for your amazing generosity—”

As the man on stage dabbed his forehead again, his wrist hit the side of the microphone and sent the speakers squealing. Ren flinched and grimaced at the sting as it stabbed right through his eardrums and sent them ringing, the echo of the man’s hasty apology over the microphone sending him straight towards a headache. As the room recoiled, a hellish scream erupted close by.

The uncomfortable vampire had stood up suddenly, his chair knocking over and landing just in front of Akechi’s legs. His hands had morphed into claws, his nails shredding the white tablecloth in front of him into ribbons. His expression was twisted into a hideous snarl, his pale face plagued as his veins began to darken and burst under his skin. His eyes were bloodshot, his pupils so dilated they took up all of the space in his irises. 

The man screamed again, the sound tortured and blood-curdling, and he sharply twisted to the female guest to his right. His hands pressed into her neck, nails digging into the flesh on her throat. Her cries were trapped under his hands as he dug them deeper, deeper until her voice bubbled and gurgled under a dark crimson wave that sprayed onto her chest and into the white fabric of the shredded tablecloth.

The scent of her blood hit Ren like a truck. It was sweet and floral, a pleasant scent that did not match the scene carrying out in front of him. He was frozen with shock, as was the rest of the ballroom, as the vampire tore the woman’s throat out with his bare hands and threw the bloody mass of flesh onto the table, knocking over other drinks and scattering the silverware. 

He let out another cry as he searched the room for an escape, looking down to notice his path blocked by Akechi’s legs and his fallen chair. Akechi looked up to the vampire, eyes as wide as saucers and hands gripping the back of his chair. 

Ren stood up on instinct, his body working before his mind could react. He reached out to Akechi’s shoulder and grabbed it and yanked him away, unable to focus on how the room finally erupted into terrified screams and shouts or how Akechi’s body fell to the floor behind him. The protective measure meant that Ren was unguarded, unable to defend himself in time as the vampire acted at lightning speed and slashed Ren’s chest with a wide claw.

_“Nngh!”_ Ren grunted as he felt his skin sting with the swipe, freezing against the open air and unbearably warm as he felt his blood begin to seep out from the fresh wound. The vampire attempted to grab him, then, but Ren acted faster.

He saw an opening, one that was incredibly tight. Ren arched back his closed fist and let it swing, colliding with the vampire’s jaw and tearing the armpit of Ren’s suit. The vampire gurgled as blood gushed from his marred tongue and onto the floor. He spat as he growled through an open snarl back at Ren, crying out as Ren pushed the unsteady vampire to the floor.

_“Security!”_ A man yelled. _“We need security!”_

Ren scrambled to pin him to the floor, holding the vampire’s neck down as he bared his fangs, now fully extended and dripping with blood-saturated saliva. Ren hadn’t noticed that his own fangs had been exposed, though he noticed how the cold air whipped against them as he breathed in and out desperately, his legs and arms working in tandem to subdue the vampire as best he could.

Ren winced and gasped as the vampire clawed at Ren’s torso with an effort that never seemed to die but grow stronger. Ren pressed his own nails into the vampire’s neck and felt the warm blood stain his fingertips. The action only seemed to infuriate the vampire even further, as he dug his fingers into Ren’s side and tore down, shredding his suit and his skin in one violent sweep.

A man dressed in black rushed to Ren’s side, at least twice Ren’s size. Another quickly followed and shoved Ren out of the way and onto the floor beside them.

“We got it, we got it,” the man hastily explained. “Get back. _Get back!_ ”

Ren stopped himself as he felt the instinctual urge to jump back on top of the man, and found himself being stopped by other hands who swiftly pulled him out of the fray. The men did a more efficient job than Ren did, though two more men appeared from the sides to assist in restraining the vampire. 

Ren’s eyes swept his surroundings as he remembered in a flustered panic — _Akechi_. Ren gasped as the hands who kept him held back pressed into his wounds, trying to prevent him from stumbling to his feet. They were unsuccessful, and the screaming and gasps around them flooded out any pleas for Ren to stay out of it. 

He found him, still lying on the floor and frozen in shock, staring at the vampire as he thrashed and clawed at the security guards who held him flush against the floor. Ren pushed past the patrons to get to him, ignoring their surprised gasps and shrieks. 

“Akechi,” Ren hissed, reaching out to grab hold of his shoulders. Akechi’s eyes were still locked onto the scene, shuddered breaths escaping his parted lips. “Akechi, hey, Akechi!” Ren begged, shaking Akechi’s shoulders. As if he were awoken from a dream, Akechi gasped, the sound desperate and vulnerable. He met eyes with Ren and reached out, grabbing his arm. “We should get out of here,” Ren said, “Can you walk?”

“Wh—” Akechi looked around as he caught his breath and swallowed with considerable effort. “Y-Yeah.”

Ren helped Akechi to his feet with the assistance of other patrons, looping Akechi’s left arm over his shoulders to support his weight. The mass of people’s voices collected into a concerned swarm, a violent buzzing of questions that left Ren dizzy by the time they exited and ended up on the other side. 

By the time they neared the exit to the ballroom, Akechi had pulled away and distanced himself from Ren, his breathing staggered as he stumbled away. As he composed himself, it gave Ren time to look down and see the once white dress shirt he wore was torn to ribbons that clung to his skin, the fabric soaked through with his own blood. His vest had endured some damage as well, a similar state to his dress shirt, and his suit jacket was torn and scuffed in places, darkened and moist where his blood pooled and gathered as Ren held a hand to his torso. 

“Shit,” Ren cursed as he held out an arm, inspecting the damage done to the back of the jacket’s arms. Akechi turned his head, silent aside from his labored breaths. “The suit.”

Akechi let out a laugh, a strangled sound that was shaking with shock, but the same breath, the most genuine noise Ren had heard him make all evening. 

“You,” Akechi breathed out, approaching him. “You’re really worried about _that_ right this instant?” 

Ren looked back to Akechi, puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“ _Look_ at yourself, Ren,” Akechi rasped. He traced his fingers along Ren’s torso, his warm touch a harsh contrast to the chill Ren was beginning to feel with his shirt soaked through. “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah,” Ren said. “Through a suit _you_ lent me.”

Akechi balked as he took a step back, losing his voice for a moment as he processed Ren’s words and blinking as if he’d been listening to Ren speak in a foreign language. 

“... Am I missing something?” Akechi asked. “Shouldn’t we be getting you to a _doctor_?”

Ren’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ as he understood Akechi’s concern. He reached up to loosen his tie, or at least, what was left of it, and began unbuttoning his vest and shirt.

“What are you doing,” Akechi demanded, his eyes refusing to look lower than Ren’s chin. 

“It’s honestly nothing to worry about,” Ren explained as he showed Akechi his bare chest, holding open the scraps of fabric away from his body. Already, his wounds were beginning to close up into red, irritated scratches. The bleeding had mostly stopped, though Ren was beginning to experience the after-effects from the rush of adrenaline. “See?”

Akechi reluctantly looked down, his glare softening and his brow relaxing. He stared at Ren’s chest with a sort of bewildered amazement and raised a hand to his mouth, fascination replacing most of the concern in his expression. 

“... Incredible,” he whispered.

“By morning they’ll be all gone,” Ren continued. “Most I’ll need is another few bottles of synthetic to replace what I lost.”

“A transfusion?” Akechi asked. 

“Kind of,” Ren shrugged, wincing slightly at the remaining pain he felt. Akechi’s eyes widened, his anxiety returning. Being the gentleman he was, he instinctively stepped forward to Ren and held out his arms, as if he’d catch him if he collapsed right then and there. “Woah, woah,” Ren chuckled. “I’m fine, Akechi. Really.”

Akechi lowered his hands quickly and scoffed. “Jesus,” he breathed. “Fine, then. I’ll call us a ride back to my place. No sense in staying here,” Akechi murmured to himself as he retrieved his phone from his breast pocket. “There’s nothing left for us here, anyway.”

A gunshot rang out, splitting the silence from outside the hall and causing an uproar inside the ballroom. _That must’ve been..._

Ren nodded, feeling his blood chill in his veins as he looked up and saw Akechi staring back at him in shock. “We should go,” he said.

***

The trip back to Akechi’s apartment was a silent and quick one, where Ren felt Akechi’s frequent fleeting glances on him, heard his voice catch in his throat just as he was about to say something, and the soft close of his lips when he restrained himself, thinking better of it. As the amber lights of the street darted past, Ren felt fatigue cover him like a warm blanket, and if he was quite honest, slept most of the way. 

The car rumbled to a stop on the pavement, stirring Ren from his daze. Akechi had fifty dollars ready for a cash tip and apologized for the mess they might have left. The driver narrowed his eyes in doubt before he looked to the backseat where Ren had sat, the black cherry hue of his blood flecked across the leather seats.

“Are you still bleeding?” Akechi asked, looking back to Ren as the driver sped off, running through a stop sign. 

Ren looked down at himself, lifting the clinging fabric to see some of the smaller wounds he’d endured had healed over, the fresh skin casting an iridescent shimmer. The larger wounds threatened to bleed again if manipulated. The sight of this caused Akechi to scowl, his brows furrowed. Without waiting for Ren’s formal response, he keyed into the apartment and walked ahead, holding the door for Ren without looking back.

As they entered the apartment, Ren was greeted with Akechi’s scent coating each surface once again, and despite himself, breathed in deeply and exhaled shakily as his senses tingled with pleasure. Akechi glanced back at him with a sliver of curiosity but turned away before he motioned Ren back to his bedroom.

“I shouldn’t stay,” Ren told him as he followed.

“You will until we discuss this,” Akechi said. “Your clothes are back here.” 

Ren looked down at himself, dried blood caked onto his skin and flaking off. Akechi followed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“You… should probably shower before you leave,” Akechi murmured. “Lest the police think you’ve gone berserk.”

Ren managed a smile, sheepish. “Good idea.”

Akechi moved to the bathroom and flicked on the lights for him, even going so far as to turn on the shower for him. “Shampoo’s to the left, conditioner to the right,” Akechi looked around awkwardly as he avoided Ren, shuffling around him like he was moving in someone else’s skin. “Uh… I’ll get you a towel and a washcloth.”

“Thank you,” Ren murmured. As Akechi left to go find a clean towel, Ren glanced over his shoulder to see his reflection in the mirror. His face and neck were free of blood, but little else was. His fingertips were stained red, his clothing was torn open and shredded to ribbons, his healing wounds visible against his pale skin. Ren’s lips parted as he looked at himself and felt his heart drop, a memory stirring and plaguing his mind, taking over with such speed it nearly knocked him down to his knees.

He remembered he’d let his thirst get the better of him. _Mistake number one._

He had left his house before night had fully eclipsed the sun. _Mistake number two_. The sun was burning in the west, its dying embers painting the cityscape a warm amber as the deep blue of dusk crept further and further across the sky. The people of Tokyo were packed dense and huddled together as they commuted home from work, their scents rolling off of them like a thick, suffocating fog. 

His thirst clawed and burned at the back of his throat like a nagging wound, like a fresh papercut under soap, like someone dragging their nails through a hot sunburn. It consumed him, took over him, each thought dedicated to a different scent. Coffee. Wasabi. Lemon peel. Chocolate cake. Mango. Walking among them, it felt like being smothered and strangled, it felt so hard to breathe.

He singled out a man in the crowd, focusing on his scent like a bloodhound to prey. _Mistake number three._

He hadn’t wanted to, Ren remembered trying to tear himself away, to take a back alley route to his odd-job at the flower shop in the underground mall of Shibuya, to distance himself, crossing the street. His scent clung to him like a tick, refusing to let go. No matter how he tried to avoid him, he kept finding himself in the man’s footsteps, trailing closer and closer behind as the scent took hold.

He smelled like curry. The exact kind Ren’s mother used to make him as a child. 

Tears crept into his eyes as he felt his body itch and writhe, the loneliness of his heart overtaking him. Ren missed his home so badly. He missed his mother’s warm embrace and his father’s kind smile. He missed a warm bed, dinner on the table… he missed his friends. He looked over his shoulders, finding everyone looking down, looking away. They paid no mind to the boy in street clothes who tapped on the shoulder of the distracted businessman.

“Excuse me,” Ren asked, his voice small. “I can’t find my train, I’m supposed to be meeting my aunt at the Kanda Catholic Church,” he lied.

“What?” The man asked as he met his eyes, looking up from the pavement and tousling his short black bobbed hair. “Oh.”

Ren held his gaze as he grabbed his elbow, leading him aside as he stared deeper, finding himself in his pupils as Ren’s nails dug into the man’s skin. Ren struggled to swallow as his prey’s eyes glazed over, his lips parting. Ren’s fangs inched out of their hiding spot, causing him to shiver as the thick air drifted against them. 

“Please,” Ren begged, leading him to the side of a dumpster and feeling a sob tear out of his chest like a hot knife, his mouth watering at the man’s smell. “I-I’m… _I’m sorry._ ”

Ren let his desires take over completely. _Mistake number four._

“Ren?” 

Akechi’s voice tore him out of the memory like a bucket of ice water to the head. Ren’s eyes tore away from his reflection in the mirror and darted to Akechi, his body halfway through the bathroom door with a towel and cloth in hand.

“Ren,” Akechi whispered. Ren felt a feverish shiver as his mind drifted again, fatigue swelling his brain. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Ren replied too quickly.

“Your fangs,” Akechi said softly. “They’re... out.”

Ren’s hand snapped to his mouth, hiding them like he’d been caught with something he stole. “Sorry,” he apologized, “I must be more tired than I thought.” A lie. 

Akechi set the towel and washcloth on the sink counter as he struggled to tear his eyes away. “I’ll be in the living room,” he said. “Try not to fall asleep in here.”

Ren forced a chuckle, cringing at how it felt. “No promises.”

Akechi closed the door softly without saying another word and Ren turned to face himself again with a heavy sigh that shook his chest.

“Keep it together,” he whispered to himself. He took the cloth and entered the shower, willing himself to stay awake. 

Ren tried to shower as quickly as he could, minding his cuts that were still healing and stung as Ren lathered himself with Akechi’s body wash. The citrus and cedarwood scent woke him up slightly from his mental fog, and Ren stifled a laugh as he thought how interesting it was. Never once had he smelled either of these on Akechi, only the warm, sweet scent of vanilla and maple.

Ren stayed until the water ran completely clear, and an additional few minutes because he wanted to be certain that he wouldn’t track blood through Akechi’s home. After he reassured himself he was capable of facing Akechi, he turned off the water, toweled off as delicately as he could without tearing open his wounds, and dressed back into his ‘sorry excuse’ for formal wear. 

Akechi was in the living room, as promised, still dressed in his tailored brown suit. On the collar, Ren noticed a crimson stain and thought that compared to Akechi’s well-maintained appearance, it looked incredibly out of place. He was sitting on his sofa scrolling through his phone, looking focused until Ren emerged. He locked his phone and slid it to the side, glancing Ren up and down.

“Feeling better?” Akechi asked. 

“Much, thanks,” Ren nodded. “Any word on… what happened?”

“I’m sure you’re not surprised that the incident has made the news already,” Akechi said casually as if he were discussing the weather. “The woman that was killed was a major speaker in favor of the radical policies against vampires going through the legislation currently.”

Ren blinked. “And you were sitting close to her,” he thought aloud.

“Correct,” Akechi said. “Oh, and neither of us were mentioned. There was a cellphone video, but if anyone ever finds out who you are, which is incredibly unlikely, you’ll be praised as a hero.”

“I don’t care about that,” Ren said after a pause. He shook his head as he tried to understand why Akechi would mention this. “I… who was the vampire?”

“Dead, as of right now,” Akechi responded. He sat up and gestured at an armchair to the side. “But his name hasn’t been released. I know you said you shouldn’t stay, but I feel there’s more to this.” Akechi set a curled finger to his lip in thought, rubbing it against the surface. “And, I lack a perspective that you’ve lived with for well over a decade.”

“I wouldn’t say _well_ over,” Ren mumbled. Akechi glanced at him once, looking doubtful. Ren swallowed and took the offered seat. “What else are you thinking about?”

“I’m curious to know what you noticed,” Akechi said. “You were the first to react. The rest of us were unable to act due to shock. Even security.”

Ren nodded. “He was… sweating. And clutching at the table. Mumbling to himself. He looked like he was in the worst pain of his life.”

Akechi paused, looking forward. After a beat, he responded, “What else?”

“Remember the video that was released when the authorities were catching the vampire who murdered Miwa?” Akechi nodded. Ren continued, “Their skin… it’s hard to describe, but I could see it turning —”

“Gray?”

“Yes,” Ren breathed. “Right in front of me. He paled and then he just looked… dead.”

“And he looked normal up until then?” Akechi asked.

Ren nodded as he bit his lip. “Perfectly, just like he had a stomachache or something.”

“Hmm.”

“And didn’t you think the timing was… perfect?” Ren asked. 

Akechi broke his staring match with the wall and narrowed his eyes at Ren, lowering his hand from his lips. 

“What do you mean?” Akechi asked.

“We were bidding on the last item, the cruise with Masayoshi Shido,” Ren recollected. “We still had another presentation ahead of us all about how the Coalition of Peace was doing ‘great things’ for vampires. But, the man went berserk just as they were nearing the final bids on the cruise.”

“Why wouldn’t they wait for the final bid?” Akechi asked, focusing his stare. “You must think something higher is behind this, as well?”

Ren nodded once. “It’s too much of a coincidence. The man losing control and taking out that woman, and you being sat right behind him. Do you think it could’ve been...” Ren’s voice trailed off.

“Masayoshi Shido knows nothing about me,” Akechi murmured, finishing his thought. “That encounter we had before the auction was unfavorable, yes, but this is the closest I’ve gotten to him in years.”

“When was the last time?” Ren asked. Akechi refocused his attention onto the wall, gaze hovering by his bookcase. Ren felt his shoulders hunch as he waited for a response from the man, which never came. His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy. Desperate to fill the silence, Ren reached for another conclusion. “Do you think it could’ve been those people who invited you? They arranged the ticket.”

“They didn’t arrange the seating,” Akechi answered him easily. “Besides, there are other ways they could have disposed of me if I was becoming too much of a threat, which I doubt. We’re on very amicable terms.”

Ren hummed, the sound sleepier than he intended. It caught Akechi’s attention.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, but instead of the malice it would’ve contained, it sounded genuine and full of guilt. He pulled out his phone and quickly navigated to an app. “I’ve put you through enough. I’ll call you a ride.”

“I can take the bus,” Ren objected, jolting to life. “Really—”

“Your address,” Akechi requested over him, not listening to Ren’s feeble protests. 

Ren pursed his lips and reached for the phone. “Let me enter it in,” he said quietly.

Akechi handed it to him, though instead of relaxing, he watched him intently. Ren gave him a glance, a silent plea for privacy, but wasn’t successful. As Ren keyed it in, Akechi spoke. “As for your payment,” he began, stiff, “I’ll have it wired to you by daybreak. Don’t worry about the amount.”

“I thought you said we’d discuss the payment afterward,” Ren murmured.

  
“You saved my life, Ren,” Akechi reminded him, taking the phone back from him with a small huff. “And you were willing to sacrifice yourself for me in the process. You think I’d underpay that kind of act?”

Ren said nothing, only thinking to himself that at the moment when the feral vampire turned to face Akechi, Ren wasn’t worried about Akechi neglecting to pay him fairly once he fought him off. He wasn’t thinking about how much the act would be able to take care of his and Yusuke’s debts, or if the stimulus would be able to finance a new apartment.

In that moment, Ren was beginning to realize the reason he acted to protect Akechi’s life with every ounce of his soul wasn’t because of the money. It was because the thought of losing him at that moment seemed too wrong, too unjust. Too soon.

“Your ride will be here in two minutes,” Akechi said as he stood, turning to enter the kitchen. “You’d better get ready to go.” He looked at Ren as he opened up his fridge, his eyes soft for the shortest of seconds. “And please, get some rest.”

***

Ren felt as if he was walking with weights tied to his limbs as he exited the luxury sedan Akechi had ordered, thanking the driver sleepily. It wasn’t until the car was driving away that he realized he’d given Akechi his address, and at any point, the man could pop in and visit.

Ren sighed heavily as he turned on his feet to walk up his apartment stairs, fumbling in his pockets for his keys. His eyelids were feeling dangerously heavy, his body heavy with fatigue. 

“Hey,” a boyish voice called. “Ren?”

Ren turned his head to the direction of the voice, expecting a neighbor, maybe a child. He looked down and saw Morgana’s blue eyes glowing in the dark, his face emerging as he slid his slender body through the wrought iron railing and onto the steps. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Morgana asked, his voice shaking slightly. “I felt it, most of it, but... I couldn’t find you.” He kept his distance as if the feud between them was still fresh. “Was it Akechi?”

“No,” Ren answered, unable to elaborate as his mind focused on finding the right key and unlocking his apartment door. After a few seconds, he succeeded, and he opened the door wide enough for Morgana to be let in. “It was something else.”

“You’re not letting me in,” Morgana whined. “Let me in.”

“I _am_ letting you in,” Ren huffed. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“No, not _that,_ ” Morgana tutted as he darted in, racing up to the first few steps. “Your head. Let me in.”

Ren sighed heavily and shuffled in after him, sluggishly pulling himself up the steps. Morgana was always three or four steps ahead, glancing over his shoulder as Ren ascended to the third level. 

“I don’t know how to even begin to do that, Mona,” Ren said sleepily. 

“ _Mona_?” Morgana asked. “Hey, is that a nickname?”

“It could be,” Ren responded. “I meant to say Morgana.”

“I kinda like it,” he hummed. “It’s kinda like the first and last syllables of my name?”

“Sure.” 

Ren entered the apartment to find it, thankfully, empty. The window to the outside normally blocked by the black-out curtain was open. Ren wasn’t fully listening to Morgana as he explained Yusuke had gone out for the night and he’d left the window open for him in case he wanted to come and go, however, he did gather that Morgana had apparently made up with him enough to chatter away like this.

“So,” Ren began as he crossed to his dresser and pulled out a set of loungewear. “You’re not mad at me, anymore?”

“I—” Morgana stalled. “Well, I mean, it’s a bit cruel of me to be mad when you come home looking like…” Morgana’s hasty explanation was cut off by Ren carefully pulling up his shirt and tossing it to the side. He saw Ren’s wounds and shrunk down, his ears curled back. “Ren,” he said softly. He approached Ren slowly and cautiously rubbed up against his leg, his long tail trailing along the backside of his knee. He processed something for a second and took another pass.

“What are you doing?” Ren asked, and despite himself, managed a chuckle. 

“I’m trying to read you,” Morgana snapped. “Stand still.”

Ren smiled. “I don’t think that’s going to work—”

“You’re just not cooperating,” Morgana huffed, and tried one more rub before he walked away, jumping up on top of the couch. “Either way, this happened because of Akechi, I know that.”

Ren rubbed at his eyes after he slid a cotton t-shirt over his head and looped his arms through, crossing to the fridge to grab the last bottle of _True-O_ AB and set it in the microwave. He’d have to grab more on his way home.

“It happened to _save_ Akechi,” Ren clarified as he smashed a few buttons to get it working. “Which… is technically what I signed up for. I guess I’m just a little out of practice.” Ren stared into the microwave as his bottle spun on the turntable, threatening to bubble up. He yanked the door open before it could and grabbed it, turning to see Morgana had jumped up on the counter behind him, sniffing his wounds. “Can I... help you?”

“Are you gonna be okay?” Morgana asked.

“Yeah, I just need to sleep,” Ren mumbled. “Yusuke says we just need to drink a little more blood than normal and rest it off. It’ll heal overnight.”

“Then you’d better get to sleep,” Morgana said, jumping down from the counter and looking over his shoulder to Ren, front right paw lifted mid-stride. “You’ve got work tomorrow, don’t you?”

Ren felt his fatigue increase tenfold. “Lemmie check,” he sighed heavily as he reached for his phone. The pocket was empty. He reached for his other pocket, patting the fabric. Nothing.

“Uh, Ren?” Morgana tutted. Ren spun to jog over to his tote bag, frantically swatting his hand around each pocket. “Don’t tell me…”

“I lost it,” Ren blurted, dread setting in. “Crap. Crap. Crap.”

Ren had a feeling the next twenty-four hours were not going to be pretty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and supporting this installment of True-O! If I apologized last chapter for the length, I suppose I should /really/ apologize for it this time, since it's nearly doubled the length of the fic. :^) Not sure if you can tell but I am greatly enjoying writing this. 
> 
> I want to thank you, the reader, personally and from the BOTTOM of my heart for sticking with me on this journey and making it this far. Your generous comments and kudos, guest or not, have touched me and given me so many smiles. They give me the confidence to keep writing and that this work isn't just cast into the void. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 
> 
> And as always :^) thank you to @CometSams, my beta, my best friend, and my inspiration for this fic. It wouldn't be where it is without her (constant) encouragement!
> 
> If you'd like to leave me a monetary tip, my tip jar is linked in previous chapters and in my carrd, which you can find in the bio of my Twitter @maweepa or at https://maweea.carrd.co/. 
> 
> As for the next chapter, you can follow my Twit for updates regarding an exact date and other info, but plan to see another chapter up here around mid-December. I look forward to seeing you all again then. <3


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren deals with the aftermath of the gala and Akechi pays an unexpected visit.

Ren never knew what being without a phone was like ever since he had gotten one. He remembered after saving up less than five percent of his paycheck for two years, he was finally able to upgrade from his flip-phone that he was certain was sold to him as a burner. It was his first smartphone, and he kept it on him at all times. It was like his baby.

He had tried retracing his steps, thinking over the previous twenty-four hours. Ren remembered he had his phone before he went to Akechi’s house as he’d texted him on the bus ride over. Ren also remembered having his phone with him at the gala and checking Yusuke and Haru’s messages during the silent auction. He couldn’t remember if he’d left it in the suit at Akechi’s, possibly left it in the car ride over to Akechi’s, or on the way home.

“You should probably go into work early,” Morgana suggested as Ren emerged from the bathroom with a toothbrush held in hand. “What if that stupid Ryuji is going to be late, and Kamoshida lashes out again?”

“Thatschwhat I’mmafraid of,” Ren grumbled around his mouthful of toothpaste as he aggressively brushed his teeth. He spat out the excess back into the bathroom sink and willed out his fangs, giving them a more gentle stroke with the toothbrush and shivering when he rubbed them the wrong way. “I tried finding its last ping on an app that tracks your phone, but,”

“No luck?” Morgana asked as he shrank, his tail aggressively whipping the couch. 

“No,” Ren sighed. “Looks like I hadn’t updated the permissions on it, or something.” Ren gestured flippantly as he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the sink and rinsed out his mouth. When it came to technology, Ren was about as helpless as Yusuke. In fact, he was even more hopeless considering he wasn’t fostering an exponentially growing social media following.

Ren had a social media account, but it was more for himself than to share or connect with others. His Twitter was locked and his screennames were plenty, trying to outrun his stagnant age even in an age where Yusuke still looked fresh-faced and beautiful for the past several centuries. Yusuke was his only follower, though Ren was struggling to remember if Haru or Makoto had begun following him, as well. In any case, he never checked it and if he did, he lurked in the trending pages.

Ren crossed the apartment and retrieved his tote as he stepped into his work shoes. He looked over at his shoulder for Morgana and found him at his feet instead, rubbing up against his legs. 

“Do you want to come?” Ren asked. Morgana hesitated, but he jumped into the tote with a single graceful bound and settled himself, poking his head out of the top.

“You’re still recovering from that attack last night, aren’t you?” Morgana asked. “I think it’s a good idea if I come along.”

“If you say so,” Ren pursed his lips to hold back a smile. “I’m feeling fine, though.”

“You work yourself  _ way  _ too hard,” Morgana sighed, the sound of a low purr as he ducked back down. Ren collected his keys and stepped out, heading down the stairs. 

*******

The buses were thankfully in Ren’s favor as they carried Ren to his  _ StarVucks  _ in the Mission, traffic moving smoothly. He thanked the invisible forces that ruled the universe for the one stroke of kindness and quickly darted through dog-walkers and oblivious foot traffic to the back door of the cafe, located around the corner of a narrow alleyway.

“Here,” Ren called out as he entered, noticing Kamoshida’s bag was missing, and for once, Ryuji’s things were there. Ren’s eyes darted to the clock hanging over the schedule, noticing Ryuji was… early _._ _Suspiciously_ early. “Ryuji?” He asked.

“Holy—” Ryuji’s head stuck out from the front, his brown eyes wide and frantic. “Ren! What the hell?”

Ren sighed and set his bag down, allowing for Morgana to get out and stretch his back legs. He jumped up to a supply shelf overhead next to an exhaust vent, settling himself on a bag of coffee beans. Ryuji emerged a short moment later, whipped cream stains splattering his dark green apron. He looked like he’d just witnessed a car accident, and approached Ren with disbelief.

“Dude,” Ryuji breathed as he looked him over. Ren’s brow furrowed, confused. “We thought you were  _ dead _ .”

Ren puffed a laugh. “Why… would you think that?”

“The group chat, man,” Ryuji nearly growled back at him. “Haru said you got attacked and dropped your phone and we tried calling Yusuke, but of course he didn’t pick up, and we at least figured you would’ve texted us from his phone letting us know you were okay.”

Ren flinched as Ryuji swatted at him with an open palm, dodging his swing with ease. “Hey—” he began, holding up his hands to block further attacks.

“And we ended up checking  _ his _ Twitter,” Ryuji scoffed as he pocketed his hands. His frown was pathetically drained. He looked like a mother who just learned of their child’s outing, and wasn’t impressed. “So obviously, no luck there, and we couldn’t get in touch with anyone who knew shit about you, dude!”

“I lost my phone,” Ren hastily explained. “I was going to message you on my laptop but I couldn’t figure it out. I’m sorry.”

“Man,” Ryuji huffed as he raised a hand to ruffle his blond unruly hair. “It’s not  _ me _ you should apologize to. Ann and Makoto are out there. I gotta go tell them,” he said, and disappeared back to the front.

Ren deflated, dread filling his gut like an icy flood. Ren picked up his apron from the hanging rack on the back door, cracking it open as he looked up to Morgana, catching his cold stare and feeling guilt creep deeper and deeper. Morgana had probably been worried in the same way. No, not probably,  _ definitely _ .

“You can go out and explore if you want,” Ren said, nodding to the door. “I know it gets boring around here.”

“Nah,” Morgana refused him simply as he settled deeper into his spot. He looked down at Ren, eyes narrowed, piercing. He was feeding off of Ren’s guilt like an unlimited buffet, and yet he still wasn’t satisfied. “I think I wanna stay and watch this.”

Ren heaved a heavy sigh as he tied his apron behind his back with a few sharp yanks. If Morgana’s intuition were right, he wouldn’t be in for a very nice shift. Ren steeled himself as he rounded the corner to the front, searching the cafe for Ann and Makoto.

They were set up in a small table with their laptops and textbooks taking up most of their space. Their drinks were nearly empty - Makoto was drinking caffeine which wasn’t typical of her, at least not this late, and Ann had a large iced coffee with the whipped cream sinking in with the ice. When they both spotted him, Ann breathed a huge sigh of relief and sunk back in her chair. Makoto’s eyes narrowed, Ren was reminded of Morgana’s expression not seconds ago, and her hands clutched the back of her chair, the skin on her knuckles turning white from the strength of her grip. 

“Ren,” Makoto began, her voice low, “what in the hell happened.”

“Makoto, please, it wasn’t that bad,” Ren tried to interject. She shook her head and vocalized a sharp noise of disapproval.

“No, you don’t get to talk,” Makoto decided as she stood up. Ren swallowed hard. “Do you have  _ any _ idea how much you scared not only me, but Ann, Ryuji, and Haru?”

“I’m just glad to see you’re okay,” Ann cut in. “You’re okay, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine,” Ren tried to speak, only to be cut off by Makoto with another sharp vocalization. 

“And with  _ Akechi! _ I thought we all told you—”

“Oh,” Ann looked at her phone. “Haru’s coming.”

“— going out with Goro Akechi of all people right now is  _ so _ dangerous, and,” Makoto turned around to Ann. “Haru’s coming?” 

“Yeah, she sent an ‘on my way’ a second ago,” Ann said. She showed her phone to Makoto, and with a sharp huff, Makoto sat back down. Ren bit his lip and looked to Ryuji for help, but Ryuji ignored his desperate stare and continued restocking cups. 

“Then I’ll let her handle it,” Makoto said after a heavy sigh. 

“I-I’m just gonna,” Ren’s tone was quivering, “go to the back… and uh. Prep oatmeal. Okay, Ryuji?”

“That’s not a good idea,” Morgana called from the back. “She’s gonna come through the back door.”

Ren peeked his head around the corner and saw Morgana’s tail wagging erratically, thumping hard against the bag of coffee beans beneath him. Ren scowled at him as he hid half his body along the wall, glaring at the back door.

“How do you know that,” Ren hissed.

“I’m psychic,” Morgana replied.

As if on cue, the door snapped open and a blink later, Haru was there. Her fluffy auburn hair was loose and wild, her cheeks pink as if she’d just ran several blocks. She was dressed in a lilac turtleneck sweater tucked into a tan academic skirt. She also wore brown sheer tights and black ballet flats. She briefly looked around for Ren and once she caught him hiding in the front, her expression turned lethal, her eyes set to kill.

“You  _ dick _ ,” she swore sharply. She began stomping over to him, and Ren felt his heart hit the floor with his stomach, all color draining from his face. 

Ren gasped and turned as quickly as he could on his feet, his shoes violently squeaking against the tile floor. He made it three steps towards Ryuji before the back of his shirt halted him in his escape. Ryuji gave him a pitiful frown and shook his head as Ren was yanked from behind into the back. 

He stumbled on his footing and crashed into the walk-in fridge, the sound making a dull thud as Ren’s body slid down its metal surface, his ass connecting with the floor. Ren let out a weak mewl of pain.

“Ren Amamiya,” Haru nearly gasped as she took in a staggered breath. “Never before in my  _ entire existence _ have I been  _ so _ worried for another, stupid, idiotic—”

Her head turned to the archway into the front of the cafe. Ann and Makoto were standing there, blocking the view into the front, and presumably, the horrifying view to the back. Makoto crossed her arms and stared down at Ren, her aura cold, unforgiving. Ann leaned on one leg and idly curled one strand of blond hair around her finger, watching it as it unfurled. 

“— careless, and… a-and—”

“Irresponsible,” Makoto added.

Ann nodded as she slipped in hers, “Reckless.”

“Haru,” Ren begged from the floor. “Haru, listen, I can explain.”

“You’d better,” Haru nearly spoke over him, her soft voice quivering. “And it better be good.”

“I lost my phone,” Ren hastily explained. “I didn’t realize until I got home, and I figured I’d just get a new one—”

“Don’t worry. I figured that out. But you could’ve at least sent a message?” Haru asked. “From your laptop? Through Yusuke? That's not a good enough excuse. Even Morgana could have relayed the message.”

“I didn’t think,” Ren said. “I was tired, so I just went to sleep.”

“You  _ didn’t  _ think,” Haru huffed. “That’s exactly what happened. That’s exactly what’s started all of this.”

“Why did you agree to do it, Ren?” Makoto asked with a heavy sigh. “If you look at the news, Akechi’s the  _ last  _ person you should be dealing with.” 

“Seriously,” Ann scoffed. “You’re hanging out with a bigot, and I mean, I get it,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned onto her other leg. “It’s good money, but,”

“Okay, listen,” Ren spoke over them now, his back arching from the wall as he sat up, readjusting his glasses. “He’s  _ really  _ not as bad as you think he is. And I think I’ve seen some pretty genuine sides of him. He’s just…” Ren struggled to find the word as the three stared down at him like an insect. “Okay. He’s just got a difficult past. Who out of us here doesn’t?”

Makoto’s eyes softened as she looked away, pursing her lips. Ann let out a silent sigh, and Haru’s posture lifted slightly, her demeanor turning less lethal. 

Ren swallowed past the lump in his throat and continued, “A vampire went berserk right by us. He was going to get Akechi next. He hired me to protect him, so that’s what I did. I was  _ just  _ doing my  _ job _ .” Ren stood to his feet and brushed off the dirt from his ass, straightening out his apron. “Haru,” he asked, catching her full attention. “Wouldn’t you protect someone if they were about to be mauled to death? If you had the power to do it?”

“I do have the power,” Haru asserted after a beat. “... But I understand what you mean.”

“If it were your shitty manager, Kamoshida,” Ann began, but began to trail off. “Well. I guess  _ you’d _ save him, still, wouldn’t you?”

Ren smiled sheepishly as he ruffled his black curls on the back of his head. “Yeah, I suppose I would. But you would, too. It’s why we all get along so well.”

Haru sighed and straightened herself out, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear as she brought her purse to her front. After rummaging in it for a moment, she produced a small black rectangle and turned it over in her hand, showing a cracked screen.

“I suppose I should return this to you,” Haru grumbled, handing it back over to Ren. Her face had turned bright red, her demeanor desperate to get rid of the phone. “The s-stupid thing wouldn’t stop ringing all night. Akechi kept calling you.”

Ren’s sentimental mood evaporated like a light mist once Haru mentioned that, his hands itching as he rushed to reach out and take it. “He did?” He asked in disbelief and searched for the power button. The screen didn’t light up.

“Wow,” Makoto breathed in shock. “You’re not even going to thank Haru?”

“Oh,” Ren sputtered, setting it down and opening his arms for a hug, nearing Haru. “Haru, thank you so much—”

Haru begrudgingly accepted the hug, huffing as she reluctantly returned it. “Dr. Maruki found it after they dealt with the aftermath,” she explained. “He wasn’t sure what to do with it, but saw our instant message and reached out to me to return it to you.” 

Ren parted from the embrace, eyes narrowing with doubt. “Dr. Maruki found it?”

Haru nodded. “It must’ve fallen out when that vampire slashed open your chest.”

Ann lurched slightly in disgust. “Haru, please.”

“Well,” Haru puffed. “I had to watch it happen, and live with the worry of him off who-knows-where with Goro Akechi, wounded and…” Haru locked eyes with Ren again as she trailed off, her eyes still harboring a deep grudge, but her anger long gone. With a swift flick of the wrist, she slapped Ren’s chest and pushed him away with a single manicured finger. “Sorry. I needed to do that.”  _ Or not. _ Ren grunted slightly, rubbing his chest as she turned to Morgana. “He wasn’t too hurt when he got back home, was he, Morgana?”

Morgana’s demeanor perked up immediately at Haru. He raised to his feet and let out a trilled meow. “He was fine. Not like he’d tell  _ me _ , though.”

“Maybe if you’d mind your own business,” Ren said. It earned another swat from Haru’s hand. “Hey—”

“Stop it,” she scolded him. “Thank you for taking care of Ren, Morgana. I had thought it would be the other way around, but, perhaps I was wrong. In any case,” Haru turned back to Makoto and Ann and rolled back her shoulders. Morgana let out a tiny giggle that sounded smug as he lowered himself back down. “Worrying about you worked up quite a thirst. Could you make me a tea, Ren?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ren murmured, following them all out to the front of the cafe. As they took their seats, Ryuji gave him another sympathetic glance. “I take it that it didn’t get too busy?”

“Thank God no one came in,” Ryuji said softly. “I thought I’d have to come back there and break it up.” 

Ren paled. “Next time,” he said, “please do.”

Their exchange was interrupted as the door chime rang and an older man and a hooded teenager walked in. Ryuji walked past him and offered Ren a small pat on his shoulder.

“Can you take it?” Ryuji asked. “I thought maybe… I’d handle oatmeal for you tonight.” 

“Thanks,” Ren said dryly. 

The older man and teenager hesitated as they looked up at the menu, and while they decided Ren took to starting Haru’s tea. He turned around to pour in the boiling water and began to steep it, but before he could finish it off by adding the milk, Ren sensed a change in the aura surrounding the counter. He looked over his shoulder to see the hooded teenager blankly staring at him through heavy rimmed glasses.

“H-Hello,” Ren stammered, not sure how he hadn’t heard her. A black hoodie hid most of her face, which was framed by fiery orange hair that extended past her shoulders and hovered at her waist. “What can I get started for you?”

The teenager made a small note of surprise as she fished in her hoodie for her phone. Her case was interesting, with red globs looking like blood suspended in water. Ren suppressed the desire to make a confused face as she hit a button, and a mechanical voice filled the air.

_ “A venti vanilla bean frappuccino, iced, and blended with strawberry puree,” _ it said. 

Ren blinked. She blinked back.

“At least say please,” the older man scoffed through a laugh. “Weirdo.”

The teenager quickly tapped into her phone, and the mechanical voice shortly blurted out a stoic,  _ “Please and thanks.” _

“O...kay,” Ren nodded as he slowly picked up a large cup. “I can do that. Is regular milk okay?”

She nodded. Ren looked to the older man as he loaded up the cup with ice and milk, smiling politely when the older man sighed and shook his head, giving Ren an exhausted shrug. 

“What name can I put down for this?” Ren asked her. 

The teen keyed into her phone again with lightning speed and looked up as the voice uttered,  _ “Alucard.” _

Ren couldn’t help himself as his confusion broke through his mask. The teenager quietly chuckled, the sound sinister. “Nyehehe.”

“Okay,” Ren forced himself to say, penning it down. _Was it just Dracula written backward…?_ Ren looked up to the older man as he pumped the strawberry puree into the mix. “Anything for you, sir?”

“No, I’m fine,” he said. “Thanks.”

Ren quickly made the drink, desperate to rid himself of the awkward encounter so he could check his phone. While the blender buzzed and filled the cafe with a mind-numbing noise, Ren lost himself as the white mixture stained red, reminiscent of the tablecloth at the gala when a woman’s throat was torn out by a feral vampire’s nails alone. Akechi said he’d wire the money by daybreak, but he really hadn’t disclosed how much it would be.

_ “You saved my life, Ren, and you were willing to sacrifice yourself for me in the process. You think I’d underpay that kind of act?” _

Ren felt a stomach ache coming on as he poured the drink into the cup and topped it with whipped cream, sliding it down the counter with practiced ease. “Vanilla bean frap with strawberries for Alucard,” he called out, feeling his face turn pink as he turned away. 

“Thanks, kid,” the older man said, so close Ren looked over his shoulder and caught the man slipping a ten-dollar bill into the tip jar. “And sorry for the weirdo. She doesn’t get out much.”

“Sojiro!” The teenager hissed as she tugged on his arm, forcing them to the exit.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sojiro laughed lightly and gave Ren a tired wave as he opened the door for the teen. Ren watched as they went, his eyes following the teen until they slipped out of view. 

_ Ten dollars for dealing with a vampire wannabe? _ Ren reached into the jar and slid the bill into his apron before Ryuji got any bright ideas.  _ Not bad. _

Ren delivered Haru her tea before she could berate him too much, refreshed Ann and Makoto’s beverages, and cleaned up after their used cups with speed and proficiency. By then, Ryuji had reemerged, and Ren quickly tasked him with wiping off all the tables and chairs before he could slip off and hide from anyone’s wrath. The lights above flickered slightly as the day waned outside. A thick fog began rolling into the city, a light mist coating the roads outside and flecking the windows, turning the outside scene of cars passing under amber street lights into a mosaic as drops collected and ran down the glass surface. 

“We’d better get going,” Ann sighed a couple of hours later. Again, their drinks were empty, and Ren had helped them to a few sweets deemed ‘unfit’ for sale. No surprise, all that was left was the crumbs. “I still gotta catch a bus before they switch to night hours.”

“I’m happy to carpool,” Haru offered. “I’m sure we’ll all fit.”

“Do you mind?” Makoto asked as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Not at all,” Haru smiled back at them as she collected her phone. “I like to make sure all my friends get home safely.” She glanced at Ren briefly. He felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.

“D-Did you get all your studying done?” Ren asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“We did,” Ann chirped. “But if I know Makoto, we’ll be back at it on Monday.”

Makoto chuckled. “Then you’d best get ready for it.”

The girls left shortly after with a chorus of tired goodbyes, though not before Haru could slip off to the back and give Morgana a proper send-off. Ren heard them discussing in low tones, but tuned out most of it, tired himself as the day’s work was beginning to catch up with him. 

Ren slumped himself into a chair with the cash till as closing neared, his shoulders dragging him down as he slouched and yawned behind a cupped palm. Ryuji’s head peeked up from behind cleaning the spare carafes, his brows furrowed together with concern.

“Hey man,” he called. “You okay?”

“M’fine,” Ren hollered back. “Don’t miss a spot on those carafes or Kamoshida’ll have our asses.”

“Dude,” Ryuji puffed back, offended, as if he didn’t commit the crime each time they closed. “Don’t worry about it.”

Despite it being fifteen minutes before they could lock the doors and turn off the lobby lights, Ren reached for his phone like it was a bad habit, observing the damage. His screen was cracked in multiple places, and when it finally lit up, part of the LEDs were stretched out into broken lines. Ren handled it with a heavy sigh as he saw his last paycheck from Akechi quickly fading in front of him.  _ How much was a new phone nowadays? _ Ren didn’t want to look…

From Akechi, there were, indeed, several missed calls and a couple of voicemails. The first one being at 1:30 AM and an accompanying voicemail. Ren hit play after multiple attempts to register his fingerprint on the broken screen and raised it up to his ear.

_ “Ren - I hope you made it home safely. I wanted to thank you again for your performance tonight. N...Not that it was entertaining. I appreciate it, you saving my life. Uhm… I also wanted to say your courage was really admirable. Text me back to let me know you made it home. Bye.” _

Ren sluggishly breathed in after noticing he’d held his breath throughout the entirety of the awkward voice message. He hid a smile behind his palm as he checked his notifications, seeing he’d tried to reach out via text.

2:28 AM -  _ Did you make it home? _

2:58 AM -  _ I hope you didn’t bleed out and die. Again.  _

3:05 AM -  _ That was a horrible joke. But really. _

Another call from Akechi at 8:03 AM. And another at 8:15 AM. And… another at 8:17 AM. Ren felt guilt stab at his gut as he bit his finger as he scrolled through all of the red ‘Missed Call’ notifications. In each one, Ren could feel the desperation, the worry. Was it worry? Or was it the nuisance of Akechi having to hire another vampire to save his ass when things went south?

A few more texts. At 9:54 AM, Akechi sent him another ping.  _ You must be in a coma if you’re missing all of this. When (or if) you wake up, please send me a text or give me a call. -A _

Ren wondered with a small wry laugh why Akechi would need to sign off with an ‘-A’ when he was obviously contacting him from the same number this entire time. There was one more voicemail remaining, and Ren felt dread as his thumb hovered over the playback button, fearing its contents. When he worked up the courage, he pressed the button and raised it to his ear.

_ “Look, I  _ think _ we’re both adults here. I’m incredibly sorry for what happened last night, and if you’ve begun doubting if you want to continue working for me, I would hope you’d at least take the more mature route and not ignore my calls. I’m coming over to your place so we can discuss this like adults. See you soon.” _

Ren paled as he read the next text in the series of mortifying correspondence, desperately fighting the urge to shove his whole fist in his mouth.

11:35 PM -  _ Your live-in partner pointed me to your job. Are you still working? I’m heading over. _

This obviously couldn’t wait. Ren quickly navigated to call Akechi back, his fingers beginning to tremble as the phone trilled for a few beats, then nothing. 

“Hello?” Ren asked to the empty void, pressing the phone closer to his face. “Akechi? Are you there?”

Nothing. Ren bit his lip and moved the phone away from his ear.

“Akechi?” He asked, softer. “Listen, I’m sorry—”

A melodic chime cut off Ren’s hasty explanation. Confused, he brought the phone back to his front and watched as the screen blinked, an empty battery logo flashing unapologetically back at him. 

“Shit,” Ren swore. He looked up, seeing Ryuji’s form bent over the sink. “Hey, Ryuji?”

“Yeah?” Ryuji asked, turning around. “What’s up?”

“Got a spare phone charger on you?” Ren asked.

“Nah, man. ‘Sup? Your phone die?”

Ren let out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah. Uh,” he stood then, ruffling up his hair and taking off his glasses to wipe them on the edge of his apron. “Do I look okay?” 

Ryuji’s brow furrowed, his nostrils flaring with confusion. “Why? Got a date?”

“No,” Ren scoffed. “Just answer the question.”

“If I’m honest?” Ryuji asked cautiously. Ren nodded him on, growing impatient. “You look like shit. Like you haven’t slept in a week.”

Ren groaned audibly as he replaced his glasses on his nose and turned back to the till. Ryuji stammered as he tried to correct himself.

“Dude, you’ve been through a lot! I wouldn’t look like a model, either!”

“Okay, thanks,” Ren hollered back at him. “Don’t worry about it!” 

Ren sunk back down in his chair and faced the register with dread. He had feared what Haru would do the moment she met him in intimate terms, and for what it was worth, she let him off quite easily. If they had been at Ren’s house, he’d likely be dead by now, but Ren thanked his lucky stars Haru had caught him while they were in public. What Ren feared most, now, was what  _ Akechi _ would do.

He already had a fierce temper even over the littlest inconveniences. How pissed was he that he had to reach out and settle his worries in person?

The door chimed. Ren looked up on a reflex and felt adrenaline kick in, expecting Akechi, and found a tired college student shambling in from outside requesting a hot chocolate. Ryuji helped them with little fuss and returned to his list of closing tasks.

Would he actually show? Ren doubted it as time went on and as the clock neared closing time. Ren hastily counted the rest of the day’s cash earnings and dropped the excess in a sealed bag, sighing as he stood and took the till into his arms. 

The door chimed again, but Ren didn’t look as he went behind the counter and replaced the till back into the register. Ryuji huffed to himself and threw his clean-up rag over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Ryuji called. “This asshole,” he muttered. “Just so you know, we close in five minutes.”

“Don’t worry,” a familiar voice hummed. “I won’t be long.”

Ren froze in his motions, his head snapping up to spot the dreaded sight ahead of him. Akechi stood there, partially dampened by the soft rain outside. He was dressed in a tan peacoat with a dark green sweater and black slacks underneath. His shiny black oxfords still held tiny raindrops on their leather surface. He shook a hand through his bangs and stepped forward, his expression stoic. As he approached, Ren felt the urge to run, but something supernatural held him in his spot, trembling slightly as Akechi held Ren’s gaze, unrelenting.

“I’m just gonna, uh,” Ryuji muttered, shrinking away around the corner. “Prep… something. In the back. Take out the trash. Yeah. Okay.”

Ren’s breath caught in his throat as Akechi now stood in front of him, only the short distance of the counter separating them. Even from this distance, the cafe was flooded in Akechi’s sweet scent, and Ren thought for a split second about how nicely it paired with the coffee in the air. Akechi sighed heavily as he took off his gloves, something Ren had somehow failed to notice on his way in, and stood, shellshocked, as Akechi slapped them on the counter. 

“Do you have  _ any _ idea,” Akechi began, his tone low, yet pleasant. Ren gulped. “How worried I was?” 

Ren’s lips parted to speak, feeling a familiar sense of despair fill him to the brim. He’d already gone through this conversation twice now. He thought by now he’d know what to say, how to react, and yet here with Akechi, his voice was trapped behind a growing, painful knot in his throat.

“Imagine my surprise,” Akechi continued, “when I showed up to your apartment, and your boyfriend, roommate, partner,” Akechi flippantly waved a bare hand, “ _ whatever _ he is, said you  _ weren’t _ home, that you were, in fact, at  _ work _ .”

“Akechi,” Ren managed, the noise so small even his own heightened hearing could barely catch it. “I—”

“So, I thought, ‘At least he’s not _dead_ , but in that case, _why_ hasn’t he responded to my calls?’ Which led me to believe that you thought it easiest to just… ignore them. Leave me hanging. I must admit,” Akechi let out a dry laugh, the sound forced, “I haven’t ever been on the receiving end. And a tactic I haven’t employed since the early 2000s, it’s how infantile and immature it is.

“And now, I’m here. And you look well, so I really had nothing to worry about, did I?” Akechi sighed softly as he picked up his gloves and pocketed them inside the pocket of his tan peacoat. “If only you’d saved me the trouble, I wouldn’t have had to go on a wild goose chase across San Francisco trying to track you down.

“But enough of that. I’ll save you the trouble, Ren. Trust me when I say I’m smarter than you likely believe. I know how to take a hint. I’ll wire what I owe you. We can block each other’s numbers and, with a great amount of effort on my end, we can become distant, faded memories to each other. Does that sound good to you?”

Ren steeled himself, his jaw clenched as he met Akechi’s icy stare, unsure of how to interject, or how to begin to apologize to him. Akechi gave him a beat to speak, but when Ren couldn’t manage even two words, he nodded solemnly and bounced his brows, as if surprised himself by Ren’s silence.

“I suppose so. Well, I apologize for all the inconveniences I’ve caused you. I won’t hold you up any longer.” Akechi turned then, heading for the door.

And Ren stood there, dumb and stunned into shock, as the door chimed again and Akechi softly closed it behind him, entering the misty rain, pulling his gloves from his pockets and slipping them onto his fingers before he slipped away into the amber-lit night.

As the door slid shut, Ren’s body moved with an otherworldly speed towards the door. He felt the harsh snap of the cold air against his skin when he stepped outside, and shivered slightly as he felt the fine mist stick to his bare arms and settle in his hair. 

He looked left and right, already forgetting which direction Akechi was headed. Ren scanned his surroundings and found Akechi on the other side of the street, walking east. Without looking, Ren willed himself towards Akechi’s form, pulled by an unseen desire to close the distance. A car screeched to a halt to his right and slammed on the horn. Ren hastily threw up an arm as an apology and ran faster, his worn shoes slipping slightly on the slick cement. 

Ren caught up with Akechi as fast as he willed, his left arm reaching out and clamping down on Akechi’s right shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“Akechi,” Ren spoke now, his voice filled with conviction, and sadly, a bit of desperation. Akechi turned to look over at him, his soft brown eyes wide with shock, his lips gently parted. “Akechi,” Ren said again, almost a beg. “Wait.”

Akechi blinked, his cheeks pink with either the flush of the cold or the shock of Ren’s approach, Ren wasn’t sure. He turned to face him fully and Ren’s hold fell away. Akechi’s expression was caught somewhere between deeply hurt and utter shock. The sight of such an open read to Akechi’s emotions made Ren’s stomach lurch with a pang of oppressive guilt. 

“I don’t want you to leave like this,” Ren said, his voice too soft, too vulnerable. “Can you come inside so we can talk?” A short pause when Akechi was now the one stunned into silence. Ren sought to fill it. “I can explain everything. And I… I don’t want to stop… this.”

Akechi’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “What do you mean… ‘this’?” 

Ren paused as he thought over the word. What was  _ ‘this’ _ , exactly? It’s exactly why he referred to it as  _ ‘this’ _ ... because there wasn’t a better, more concrete word.  _ This contract? This agreement? This employment? … This… relationship? _

Ren laughed softly, the noise soft, embarrassed when his words failed him yet again. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Akechi, pitiful. “... I… I’m not sure,” he admitted sheepishly. Ren could see Akechi’s jaw clenched, if only slightly. “But, uh, I can explain everything. Can you come inside?” Ren felt his cheeks flare pink. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

For a beat, Akechi’s expression was unchanged. It melted after a second too long, cutting Ren off before he could embarrass himself any further. He managed the smallest smile possible, closing his eyes and bowing his head. 

“Alright,” Akechi relented, his voice almost relieved. “A cup of coffee, then.”

*******

Ren held the door open for Akechi as they reentered the small cafe, and noticed once stepping in how cold he’d gotten outside, and how the moisture from outside still clung to every bit of him. Akechi at least had the option of shedding his coat, but Ren observed how Akechi’s auburn hair had darkened from the mist, and how tiny raindrops still clung to some of his flyaway hairs. 

“Oh,” Ryuji poked his head out from the back, his eyes widening when he spotted Akechi returning. “Uh,”

“I can close up,” Ren reassured Ryuji as he locked the door to the front, nodding to the back. “I’m… gonna be a while.”

Ryuji stood still, his expression full of scorn in doubt. Ren rolled his eyes and waved his hand.

“Seriously. It’s okay, go ahead and head home,” Ren pressed.

“Okay,” Ryuji hummed, and without another beat, slinked off to the back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Ren waited as Ryuji collected his coat, pausing to hear the door in the back slide shut before he addressed Akechi. He was in the process of taking off his coat and slinging it carefully over the back of a chair he’d selected in the corner of the cafe. Without a word, Akechi nodded to the chair opposite him. Ren obeyed his silent command and sat down, his shoulders slumping forward and his hands clasping together. 

For a moment they sat there in silence, the quiet radio over the cafe’s speakers still softly playing the upbeat tune of a pop song. The refrigerator in the back whirred to life, buzzing quietly out of frame. Outside, a gust of wind hit the glass windows looking onto the street, spraying a fine mist and gathering into fat raindrops that trickled down. Ren could hear Akechi take in a deep breath, the soft noise whistling through his nose, and hold it as his warm brown eyes held Ren’s in a gentle stare.

“You were going to explain yourself,” Akechi prompted him as if he’d forgotten. Ren breathed a laugh and wiped his eyes. In a way, he had, but in another, he was dreading even trying to make his excuses sound believable. He knew Haru had difficulty believing him, and she was the one who had his phone the entire time. 

“I lost my phone at the venue,” Ren began after swallowing hard. “It must’ve slipped out of the suit pocket—”

“There  _ was _ a hole in the breast pocket,” Akechi interjected. “And… multiple holes elsewhere.” Ren bit his lip as a deep pang of guilt stabbed him. Akechi’s eyes softened as he shook his head slightly, waving him on. He must have noticed Ren’s remorse about the fate of the borrowed suit. “I apologize. Go on.”

“Haru said someone had found it and returned it to her since she was the last person I had made contact with. But I  _ did _ make it home safely, and I just slept until I had to come to work. It wasn’t until Haru gave me back my phone tonight and I had a spare second to check it I noticed your messages,” Ren watched as Akechi’s posture stiffened and his eyes looked elsewhere. “I tried to call you back like, twenty minutes ago, but my phone died before I could get a connection.”

Akechi raised a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and fidgeted with his messy bangs, avoiding an extended amount of eye-contact with Ren. “Your luck,” he said softly, dryly, “is absolutely horrific.”

Despite himself, Ren laughed. The short sound was like a knee-jerk reaction, and it filled the cafe with life for the second it existed in the air. Akechi’s eyes widened, caught off-guard. 

“You’re not wrong,” Ren admitted. “And on top of that, my phone’s barely usable even with charge. The screen got busted.”

Akechi sat up straight. “It is?” He asked. “Let me see.”

Ren fetched the phone out of his apron pocket and slid it across the table to Akechi, wincing at how it made a metallic scratching sound against the table’s surface. Akechi turned it over in his still-gloved hands, his lips pursed in thought as he attempted to power it on, and observed how the phone flashed the empty-battery logo sadly back at him. Ren noticed that Akechi’s mouth twisted in a slight grimace that was meant to be hidden. His heart fluttered slightly, thinking that he’d been let in on a secret. 

“Mmm,” Akechi hummed grimly.

“Did you think I was lying?” Ren asked, accepting back the phone when Akechi handed it back to him. 

“No,” he replied, his tone somehow indifferent. “I was just confirming your story.” Akechi paused then as he leaned back in his seat and crossed one leg over the other. He leaned into the table with his elbow, his chin resting on the back of his hand. “Did Haru say who exactly turned the phone over to you?” Akechi asked.

“Yeah,” Ren nodded. “Dr. Maruki. He must’ve found it when he was examining the scene afterward.”

Akechi blinked and paused for a beat. “Examining is an interesting word for it.”

Ren’s brow furrowed slightly with confusion. “What should I have said?”

“Exhuming, maybe,” Akechi frowned and looked outside, his gaze and mind focused elsewhere. Ren thought it looked eerily similar to how he behaved during the silent auction. “I wonder what they’ve discovered about the virus since then, or if they plan on telling us.”

Ren watched as Akechi stared listlessly over Ren’s shoulder before he glanced at the clock. He stood then, though left his seat untucked, and hurried behind the counter. Akechi broke his stare with the outside world to watch Ren instead, expression quizzical.

“Sorry,” Ren explained as he quickly grabbed a medium-sized cup from the fresh stacks Ryuji had tended to during his confrontation with Haru. “I forgot that I still should be closing. We can still talk while I finish up, but if I don’t lock up completely in the next hour, the building security’ll have some questions for me.” Akechi’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. He nodded once, understanding. “But, I promised you a coffee,” Ren continued as he held up the cup so Akechi could see. “What can I make you?”

Akechi’s eyebrows raised, almost as if he had been caught off guard despite it being Ren’s main excuse to get him to come back inside. His posture relaxed now, and he managed an easy smile that was partially hidden behind his gloved hand. He hummed for a moment in thought and began to reach for his phone.

“Might I indulge myself?” Akechi asked, a mischievous uptick in his voice. Ren felt a twinge of fear settle in his stomach. Despite this, Ren nodded, listening. “It’s more of a challenge, really. I saw it on social media… something about testing your barista’s skills?”

Ren scoffed a laugh. “Okay. Bring it on.”

Akechi cleared his throat as he raised his phone to read from it, reminiscent of when Yusuke would begin long, sleep-inducing monologues. Ren steeled himself. “Alright. Could I have a dark roast pour-over coffee? Freshly ground beans, if you don’t mind,” he added, a flash of brilliant white teeth shining through his impish smile. “Quite simple, I imagine?”

Ren pondered the order as he set down the simple paper cup, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Of  _ course, _ it was a simple order. Did he doubt Ren because the beans at  _ StarVucks _ tasted like shit, or because he thought he was a joke for a barista? He waited for a moment for Akechi to add anything else, but he sat peacefully, watching him carefully. 

“Yeah,” Ren finally answered. “Did you… want cream and sugar with it?”

“Naturally.”

Ren bit back a smile and let it release once he turned his back to Akechi, moving to collect the materials he needed. He wouldn’t give Akechi the  _ StarVucks _ dark roast blend and try and pass it off for good coffee, no, he would rather make the best blend of the beans provided here and grind them together. Blonde roast for the sweetness, dark roast for the balanced acidity, and a few beans from the house selection that would give it a unique zest. 

As Ren scooped them into the grinder where he would proceed to grind them by hand, he peeked over his shoulder to find Akechi still staring. Ren chuckled to himself and turned back around, the crackling of the coffee beans being ground filling the silence of the small cafe.

“Something funny?” Akechi hummed once the noise had stopped, amused himself.

“Yeah, actually,” Ren said as he prepped the special filter and cup with grace, stealing a glance from Akechi. “It’s just... funny you think this is complicated.”

Even in the dim lighting, Ren could see Akechi’s cheeks flush slightly. “And I suppose it isn’t to a pro like you?”

“If someone orders it when we’re really busy,” Ren explained as he filled the special watering-can type pitcher of water to an exact line, “it’s a  _ huge _ pain in the ass. And sometimes when we’re not busy and we get a group order for it, it’s an even bigger pain. But one little pour-over coffee?” Ren began to pour the water into the special filter, looking up from the task to Akechi, perhaps a  _ bit  _ of a cocky move, but he felt practiced enough to know where the cup extended. “ _ Psh _ . I thought you’d have something more obnoxious up your sleeve.”

Akechi balked slightly, and he scoffed a short laugh. “Obnoxious?” He echoed.

“Y’know,” Ren said with a sly smile. “The people who order a huge iced white mocha with all the different syrups or someone who wants two different tea bags steeped at the same time, or a person who wants their tea brewed with the milk…” 

Akechi’s nose wrinkled with disdain, and yet he still smiled. “I’ll be sure to remember those if I ever want to piss you off.”

Ren rolled his eyes and set down the water, allowing the coffee to breathe for a moment before he grabbed a handful of sugar packets and a skinny carafe of cream from the condiment station, setting them down on the table in front of Akechi with a hand gesture for flourish.

“One dark roast pour-over coffee for Goro Akechi,” Ren mused as he sat back down.

“Ugh,” Akechi scoffed, giving Ren a critical eye. He took the drink in hand and smelled it, the light steam of the drink obscuring his face. As if to further prod him, Akechi hummed after an extended period, presumably in approval. “The scent is nice,” he said. Akechi raised the cup to his lips and took a small sip. He smacked his lips together as he pondered the taste, and after what felt like hours, gave Ren a nod. “... You did remarkably well with the tools you had. Well done.”

Ren smiled and shrugged his shoulders, bashful. “I wouldn’t call myself a barista if I couldn’t manage one simple pour-over.” 

“And yet,” Akechi sighed as he ripped off the top to a sugar packet and dumped the contents in, following with a splash of cream, “so many places screw it up beyond repair. I’ve even had cafes serve me a coffee with the grounds still in, like the filter burst a hole.” Akechi glanced up to see Ren’s expression, smiling when he saw Ren utterly horrified. He gave the drink a small stir with a flick of his wrist and relaxed back into his seat. “This blend tastes different from theirs, though.”

“I made my own,” Ren explained. Akechi blinked. “Sorry, was that against the rules?”

“No,” Akechi said. “But, I’m surprised. I didn’t know  _ StarVucks _ beans would take on this kind of quality.”

Curiosity was getting the better of him. Ren nodded to the cup. “Could I try?”

Akechi’s brows raised with mild surprise. He set the cup on the table and slid it towards him, resting his hands in his lap. “Be my guest,” he said.

Even though there were cream and sugar mixed in, Ren could smell the delicate qualities of his mixture, picking out mild scents of hazelnut, chocolate, and cranberry. He hummed to himself, an audible pat on the back, took a sip, and glanced at Akechi. Or, he would have if the steam hadn’t fogged up his glasses.

“Ah,” Ren vocalized, taking his frames off after he slid the cup back over to Akechi. He wiped them on the extra fold of his apron, feeling Akechi’s eyes linger on him as he took back his drink. “Sorry, I was blinded by how well I did.” 

Akechi groaned audibly, choosing to muffle himself behind another sip. Ren smiled. 

“But, uh, seriously, before we got sidetracked,” Ren said, leaving his glasses on the table and rubbing at where they’d made a dent in his nose. “I didn’t mean to ignore your calls. Or the texts, or the voicemails—”

“The state of your phone has made that clear,” Akechi nearly spoke over him, rushing him along. “Don’t worry.”

“No, I know, but,” Ren softly cleared his throat, trying to find the words to best communicate what he felt. It was a daunting task, more intimidating than Akechi’s sad attempt at challenging his barista skills. “I… um.” Ren sat up in his seat, rocking slightly with his hips. “I want you to know that I’m still in this. That I want to do this.”

Akechi recognized the change in Ren’s aura, and any trace of a smile vanished. His brown eyes were harder now, though he looked at Ren fondly, as Yusuke or Haru might. Akechi tapped idly on the rim of his cup with a gloved finger, his gaze fleeting for a moment as he spoke.

“There you go with saying  _ ‘this’  _ again,” he said softly, his voice gentle, almost pleased. “With all the factors considered, I’m surprised to hear you say that. You nearly were killed because of me.”

Ren chuckled wryly. “It’ll take more than a few slashes like that to kill a vampire, Akechi.”

“Even so,” Akechi continued as he met Ren’s eyes again. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing this.” Akechi swallowed as if he wanted to say something, but bit his lip as he reconsidered his words. “Ren,” he murmured, “this… virus. I hadn’t anticipated it surfacing. I’m sure the vast majority of us didn’t.” His gaze softened considerably, likely without his consent. Ren felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight, momentarily mesmerized. “We don’t understand how it spreads. If you accompany me to future events, you’ll likely only grow closer to it, and in turn, run the risk of contracting it. Are you certain you’re still… willing to do…  _ this? _ ”

Ren’s gaze narrowed, and Akechi’s expression shifted to mild shock. Ren feared for a moment that his glare was too severe, especially without the shroud of his glasses. Still, he persisted. “... Yes,” Ren said, matching Akechi’s tone, and worrying himself on how it felt too sentimental, too vulnerable. “Not knowing how the virus behaves just increases your risk even more. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Akechi stared at him then, the lower half of his face obscured by his gloved hand and his cup of coffee. Ren felt as if he were being examined under a microscope, and felt a small chill coat the back of his neck. 

“Few would say that,” Akechi finally spoke, stunning Ren into silence. “You know that, though, right?”

Ren looked down as an ache seized his heart, twisting it in uncomfortable ways as Ren recalled his friends’ evaluations of Akechi’s character, and how even still, they disapproved of Ren’s employment to Akechi as a whole. He recalled how Yusuke had turned only in Ren’s favor once he heard that the contract would pay handsomely, and how Morgana still struggled to look at him without his piercing blue gaze affixed in an unforgiving glare. To Ren’s knowledge, it seemed very apparent no one had ever entered a relationship with Goro Akechi without some sort of ulterior motive. Perhaps Ren was the first to have graduated from Akechi’s hidden strings. Perhaps he’d be the last.

Akechi spoke before Ren could put together a few simple words, casting a shadow over his thoughts. “I suppose you do,” he said, almost cautious. He inhaled sharply and sat up, resting his left arm along the back of his chair as he readjusted, crossing his legs over again. “I admit, Ren, you’re very interesting. I’m not sure if I’m in good or poor favor to have met you.

“In any case, I didn’t want to send you the payment from the gala until I was certain you were home, alive and well,” Akechi transitioned almost too quickly, leaving Ren little time to breathe. “No sense in wiring money to a dead person. But, since we’ve had this conversation, I thought we could at least discuss the option of raising what I would have sent you.”

Ren blinked, stunned again. “Raising … the amount?”

Akechi half-smiled at him around another sip of coffee. “Since the stakes have been raised, I think it’s only fair.” He glanced down into the cup and gave another idle swirl. “Perhaps it would even allow you to quit this dead-end job of yours.”

“I-I, uh,” Ren stammered again, biting his lip as he thought.

The possibility of quitting this job was … appealing. It was almost as attractive as, say, winning the lottery on a five-dollar scratch-off ticket. But just like the odds of that ever happening, too good to be true. Besides, it would leave Ryuji to Kamoshida’s wrath, and Ren would lose the chance to connect with his friends. Though watching them grow up and move on past him filled his heart with a melancholy longing, he enjoyed it much more than the possibility of being rid of the horrible hours, the pitiful wages, and the exhausting commute. 

“I’ll... have to turn you down on that last part,” Ren said quietly. “I think it’s probably a good idea if I… stay here. For now, at least.”

Akechi tilted his head to the side quickly, indignant, and swallowed the last sip of coffee with a half-hearted shrug. “Suit yourself,” he quipped. “I’m going to send over your payment tonight, and it should go through by dawn if all goes well.” 

“Thank you, Akechi,” Ren said. He smiled softly to Akechi, and wasn’t surprised at all when Akechi didn’t return the gesture. Ren glanced up to the clock in the corner and gasped, quickly standing from his chair and rushing behind the counter to clean up his mess. “Shit, ah,” Ren sputtered. “I should’ve closed a half-hour ago.”

Akechi watched him easily, another half-smile on his lips. “So, you’re kicking me out, then?”

“I mean,” Ren huffed a laugh, “you can stay if you like, but I should hurry before it’s too obvious I was slacking off and giving out free coffee.”

“That’s understandable, and I suppose I’ll allow it,” Akechi mused as he fussed with the edge of his empty cup, swirling it around his index finger. “Provided I can ask you a few more questions?”

“A few more,” Ren permitted, turning to quickly do the dishes left behind from Akechi’s coffee. 

“On my quest to track you down and ensure you were alive,” Akechi began, scorn clear in his tone, “I encountered your partner at your apartment.”

“Okay, okay, okay—” Ren sputtered, stopping him as he hastily waved his hands, spraying soapy water all over. “First,” he turned to face Akechi now, feeling his cheeks inflame and turn pink. “Yusuke’s not my partner, boyfriend, whatever you called him. Not anything like that. He’s my friend, roommate, and mentor, that’s all.”

Akechi blinked before he leaned into the table, resting his chin on his palm, pleasantly amused. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“Yusuke,” Akechi echoed. “It’s a very Japanese sounding name.”

“I… think he’s Japanese,” Ren realized after a beat that he had heard Yusuke’s story too many times to count, but had never learned how he lived out his human life before his transformation. Perhaps, like Ren, he didn’t remember. “We met in Japan, actually.”

“Before or after you … turned?” Akechi was still cautious to use certain words around Ren, it seemed.

“After,” Ren answered. “He found me one day when I really needed some help. He taught me about where and how to get …” Ren flushed again and shrugged his shoulders as he turned back to the sink. He was unsure how to word it gently. Maybe he was being a bit cautious, too, and Akechi wasn’t entirely to blame. “Food,” he said, a beat later. Akechi hummed in understanding. “He’s older than dirt, but I’m sure you’ll get his life story one day if you meet.”

“We already did,” Akechi reminded him with a small chuckle. “Earlier tonight. I knocked on the door and he lacked… pants.”

The steel carafe in Ren’s hands slipped as Ren jolted in shock, the mental image of Yusuke leaning against the doorframe with sleep in his dark gray eyes, dressed only in his velour robe, boxer briefs, and fox-plush slippers. Ren’s attention was rattled as the carafe landed loudly against the metal sink and bobbed like a buoy on top of the soapy water.

_ Jesus, _ Ren thought, clutching the side of the basin for support as he struggled against the desire to double over in embarrassment.  _ Akechi thought I was dead somewhere and Yusuke just had to… _

_ “I’m so sorry,”  _ Ren whimpered, still hiding his face from Akechi. He didn’t want to face him. “He’s too old to know better…  _ Jesus _ ,” he swore, raising a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose as he willed an upcoming headache away. “I’ll talk to him later about it,” Ren promised. In simpler terms, he’d kill him.

Akechi sounded like he was holding back a grin when he spoke again. “Just friends, you said? Being welcomed home to  _ that  _ display seems rather intimate, you could have fooled me.” Ren glanced at Akechi through the dark reflection on the digital menu’s screen. Akechi was toying with Ren’s glasses again. “And you’re the charming type, so I wouldn’t be surprised to learn of a significant other in your life.”

Ren stiffened again. He looked at Akechi fully now, his gaze narrowing with suspicion. “I’m… what?”

“You heard me,” Akechi said simply. “So?”

“So?” Ren parroted.

“Is there a significant other in your life?” Akechi pressed. Ren hesitated, his eyes hardening to a glare. “I feel I should know, in case an event comes up and you’re busy with… someone else.”

“No,” Ren finally said, trying to get him to lose chase with the thought. “There is no one like that in my life.”

Akechi fake-sighed as he leaned back and tilted his head in the opposite direction. “Pity,” he hummed. 

“Sure,” Ren scoffed. 

Ren was surprised that Akechi largely kept his mouth shut as he rushed to finish closing, kicking himself for not keeping Ryuji around a little longer to help out and instead inviting Akechi inside, letting him distract him. He quickly swept up any debris behind the counter and in the backroom, and in a desperate attempt to not leave tracks on the freshly mopped floor, kicked around a wet rag to disguise his and Akechi’s footprints leading back into the cafe. 

As if sensing the time to depart was near, Akechi stood and shrugged on his tan peacoat, walking carefully over Ren’s work to slip him his glasses.

“Were you forgetting these?” He asked. Ren softly thanked him and replaced the frames onto his nose. Akechi’s gaze lingered on him. “Hmm.”

“What’s up?” Ren asked, shrinking slightly under his stare.

“I lied to you earlier,” Akechi admitted, his expression stoic despite his brown eyes glinting with mischief. “You look nicer without those on.”

Ren shifted his weight onto his left leg. “Thanks.”

“It’s this way out, correct?” Akechi asked, stepping past him into the back. “Since you’ve locked the front, I’m guessing this is my only exit.” 

Ren was distracted momentarily by Akechi’s sweet scent drifting past. It flooded his senses as Akechi walked past, though Ren tried his best to hold his breath and not take it all in. He stiffened until Akechi had rounded the corner, but couldn’t ignore his temptations any longer. Inhaling deeply, Ren shuddered slightly as pleasure filled every inch of his body. 

He followed after Akechi like a bad habit, swallowing back the excess saliva as his mouth watered, his fingers aching to reach out, grab him, and bring him in for a taste. He opened up the back door for him, but hovered in the threshold, watching him.

“I lied to you, too,” Ren said, his voice taking on a sensual quality he hadn’t intended. He flushed at the sound of it, his blush worsening when Akechi turned around to listen, his expression suddenly intrigued.

“You did?” He asked.

“I did, back when you asked what you smelled like,” Ren murmured. Akechi’s brow lifted, and Akechi took one step to close the small distance between them. “About what humans smell like… Each of them have a scent unique to them. Sometimes it’s something as simple as lemons or lavender or tobacco.” 

A smile flirted across Akechi’s face. His brown eyes were absolutely transfixed, unblinking. Ren licked his lips, a nervous tic, and a subconscious attempt to pull Akechi in his arms and savor him, the sweet liquid flooding his mouth, temptation finally delivered.

And yet Ren stood still, restraining himself, holding onto the door frame. The cold metal was slick from the rain and began to freeze his fingertips. 

“I don’t know how to describe you, I…” Ren trailed off as he breathed in shakily, his exhale coming in broken shudders. “It’s… sweet.”

“Sweet,” Akechi echoed, his voice scarcely louder than a breath. “What kind of sweet?”

“Like pancakes?” Ren offered after a beat. Akechi’s eyes glinted and his smile faltered for a moment. He leaned against the wall, resting his head against the brick. “Vanilla… butter… maple? And warm,”

“It’s always like that?” Akechi asked.

“Yes,” Ren bit his lip and looked elsewhere, his words speaking themselves, vocalized before he could stop them: “And your blood is… the best thing I’ve smelled in nearly a decade.”

Akechi’s face softened, his interest piqued. His brilliant white teeth sparkled through parted lips as his smile grew larger, as if he were embarrassed, but flattered. 

“Well,” Akechi whispered, amused. “I hope you can contain your thirst.”

Ren’s eyes widened. “I-I wouldn’t ever,” he stammered. “I never intended to—”

Akechi nodded once and spoke over him. “I know you wouldn’t.” He picked himself off the wall and plucked his phone from his coat pocket. Quietly, as if Ren wouldn’t hear, he added, “I didn’t intend to share.” Ren’s face flushed horribly, and he was thankful that Akechi turned 90 degrees and focused his attention on his phone. “Would you like to split a ride home?”

“I’d like to but... I have a few more things to tackle here,” Ren explained. Akechi glanced back up at him, only for a moment. “And I need to pick up a few things from the store.”

Akechi hummed curtly, a note of suppressed chagrin. “Suit yourself. Thank you for your honesty tonight,” he said, as if it were necessary and not from a place of sincerity. Something in Ren knew better. “Take care of yourself.”

“Night,” Ren whispered, and watched Akechi disappear around the corner, back into the mist.

*******

Ren entered his apartment with little fanfare, noticing how Yusuke’s door was cracked slightly, his ring light on and glaring down a bright white light onto the floor. Best not to ask questions.

“I wonder what he’s up to,” Morgana murmured, his whiskers still dented from his long nap at the cafe. Luckily, he’d slept through most of the night, though he was silent on the bus ride home. Ren was nervous to ask if Morgana was tapping in on his thoughts, reliving the night like a hellish movie stuck on repeat. By his demeanor, it didn’t seem the case, and for that Ren was thankful at least one thing went in his favor tonight. “Think he’s filming a video?”

“Or trying to find a contact on the ground,” Ren answered as he took off his shoes by the door. “Like I was thinking, best not to ask any questions.”

“I’m gonna go ask,” Morgana decided. With a short leap, he landed gracefully on the floor. Morgana paused in his steps and faced Ren as he took off his coat and shook a hand through his damp hair. “Hey, uh, maybe you should get some rest,” he advised. “You’re looking really beat.”

“I am,” Ren sighed. “And I will. Go have fun with Yusuke. Shut the door when you go in.”

And to Ren’s surprise, he did. He heard Yusuke’s jovial greeting on the other side of the door and him complimenting Morgana on his ‘amazing dexterity, even with those small paws’. Ren smiled softly as he lifted his shirt from his head and tossed it towards the growing pile of dirty clothes. He had the night off tomorrow, so it was likely time to catch up on laundry.

Tonight… it was a hard thought to leave his head. Over and over he’d thought about how Akechi had left him speechless and turned away, prepared to end it all. He thought about how Akechi’s severity somehow outranked Haru’s, and how Akechi hadn’t even laid a finger on him. His stomach was doing jumps and flips as he worried over it, always ending up at the same conclusion. Ren’s cheeks would burn with a vibrant flame as he replayed the coffee, the exchange of secrets, the disappointed farewell...

Ren changed into his loungewear with a heavy sigh, the promise of sleep calling him, tempting him. He pushed it off for a while longer as he fixed Morgana a meal and set it in the farthest corner of the kitchen, giving him a fresh bowl of water. It would hopefully make up for the fact that he was still, without guilt or doubt, choosing to be employed by Akechi.

In the end, it all came back to the same locations, Ren was beginning to understand. Alleyways were the arenas where Ren and Akechi would face off in games of mental gymnastics - first, in the beginning, at  _ Fang _ , then again tonight, where it seemed their contract was solidified into something more secure, held in higher regard. 

And after a quick drink of the recently purchased  _ True-O, _ Ren fell back onto the couch, sluggishly pulling his blankets up over his frame with a quiet struggle. He sunk into the cushions too easily, his eyelids already drooping as fatigue took over his body with feverish intensity. Just before he slipped off into sleep, he plugged in his phone and settled, finally, listening to the soft discussion from Morgana and Yusuke in the next room.

*******

Ren woke up at twilight, his body loose and languid as he hid behind his eyes for a moment longer. He felt Morgana sleeping easily on his chest, his soft purrs reverberating Ren’s chest. Outside, the world was quiet. It was raining lightly, the drops plinking onto the glass in short staccato bursts. Ren could hear the sounds of passing cars kicking up water with their tires, the brushing sound tickling his ears.

Then, a sharp collection of knocks at the front door. Morgana’s ears twitched uncomfortably at the sound, and with Ren, he rose, gently leaping down to the floor and following him to the door.

Ren suppressed a groan as he looked out the peephole and noticed no one there. 

“A package, maybe?” Morgana asked, his soft, boyish voice slurring slightly. 

“Good idea,” Ren mumbled, and after waiting a second, opened the door to a simple paper bag resting by the door. Morgana was at his feet in an instant, giving it a short sniff as Ren raised it with a careful finger, letting one of the straps sag with the weight and flay open. 

Inside, there was a note concealing a white box. Ren plucked it up to read it, and felt his heart throb once he saw the illustration for a phone on the top of the box.

  
_ ‘Thanks again for your hard work. Try not to lose this one. -A’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the sixth chapter of True=O! I had a great time writing it and reading all of your comments from the previous chapter. And thank you, thank you, thank you for nearly 200 kudos! I'm absolutely humbled and amazed by your generous feedback, and know that if I don't respond to every comment, I'm reading them with a fluttering heart and deep gratitude. <3
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Sam, who helped me work out the kinks in brain worms and dealt with my scattered thoughts, and pushing me to include even MORE as we wrestle with Ren and Akechi's tension, sexual or otherwise. :^)
> 
> The next chapter will be chock-full of more sexual tension, and I look forward to writing it and delivering it to you! Since this chapter went up a bit ahead of schedule, I'll plan to have the next chapter up around December 18-20. You can follow me on my Twitter @maweepa for more concrete timeline updates. Please consider sharing this fic with your friends or on socials! 
> 
> And, if you choose to, my tip jar is open! The funds raised there help support me financially and help me spend more time writing. Please note it is not necessary at all, but simply there if you want to tip. You can find it at https://www.buymeacoffee.com/maweea. 
> 
> That's all! Thank you SO much again for your continued support. Please remember to take care and be kind to yourself and others. See you again very soon!


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren and Akechi debrief on the latest vampire attacks.

Ren was hoping, for once, that he could have a day off in peace. Today was  _ not  _ that blessed day.

Ren had removed the phone from the sealed box and inspected his gift. It was a brand new model, one that Ren had seen advertised on several billboards along his commute. With at least  _ triple _ the memory from his previous phone and an upgraded camera, Ren could safely assume that this was the ‘extra’ income Akechi had mentioned. 

As he turned it over in his hands, Ren was pleased that it was a modest silver color. There had been extra gifts stacked neatly under the phone’s box - a protective case and a screen protector. He’d have to have someone with a steadier hand help him apply it. Yusuke, maybe. 

Morgana was fixated on the bag, sniffing it cautiously and sticking his head in after a spell.

“It even smells like Akechi,” Morgana remarked, his whiskers brushing up against the inside with a soft bristling noise. Ren raised an eyebrow.

“What does Akechi smell like to you?” Ren asked.

“Hmm…” Morgana hummed in thought and set one paw inside of the bag, then another. “Not like how  _ you  _ describe. Smells like cologne.” Ren watched him and bit back a smile.

“What kind of cologne?” He asked, egging him on. “Fresh… woodsy… spicy?”

“I’m not a fragrance specialist like you,” Morgana tutted. He lifted a back leg and attempted to tuck it in as well, but it quickly became caught on the twine handle. Panicking, Morgana’s back leg kicked out as he tried to free himself. The bag ripped open instead, the tearing noise flooding the apartment. “... Oops.”

Ren sputtered a laugh, trying to hold it in as best he could and failing. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Morgana tutted. “... Sorry about the bag.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ren smiled and powered on the new phone, reaching for his laptop to look up a guide on how to transfer his number. “It’s not like _ I _ was going to sit in it.”

Yusuke’s door opened ominously, as if a ghost had drifted past. Morgana’s fur stood on end as his back arched up, his ears curling back. There was a pause before Yusuke finally emerged, dressed sharply in a pair of slim-fit dark wash jeans and, less sharply, a loud print buttoned short-sleeve shirt. His sleek hair had been combed neatly and tucked behind his ear. Sleep was still heavy in his dark gray eyes, but at least he was dressed, Ren thought with a sigh.

“Good evening,” Yusuke murmured, glancing at Morgana and pausing in the doorframe. His eyes narrowed. “Did I frighten you?”

Morgana relaxed visibly, as if by force. “N-No—” 

“You totally did,” Ren spoke over him. He smirked and pushed up his glasses when Morgana quickly turned to him, ears flattened and gaze sharp. “Scaredy cat,” he whispered.

“Am not!”

Ren jumped slightly when he felt Yusuke’s cold and heavy hand on his shoulder suddenly, instinctively looking up to where he was before he’d blinked over to Ren’s side. Sighing heavily to shake off the shock, he rolled his eyes and avoided Morgana’s eyes when he heard him chuckle softly.  _ Damn ancient vampires, _ Ren inwardly cursed, a pang of jealousy cutting through him.  _ Always taking shortcuts. _

“New phone?” Yusuke asked.

“Yeah,” Ren replied. “I was going to figure out how to transfer my stuff over.”

Yusuke hummed once and held out an open palm. The three gold bangles Ren hadn’t noticed him wearing clattered together delicately and gathered at his wrist. 

“Let me,” he requested.

“Do you even know how?” Morgana chirped as he jumped up to the coffee table. Ren handed Yusuke the new phone and scooted over so he could take his spot on the couch.

“Mona,” Yusuke tutted. He took his spot and took Ren’s laptop into his hands, quickly navigating to a few sites. “I’ve done this many times for young Ren and myself. Besides, if I didn’t know how to work a few basic pieces of electronics,” he paused, focused on the screen, “how would I be able to amass a cult following of a million followers?”

Ren balked, shock and disbelief seting in. “A  _ million? _ ” 

Yusuke smiled proudly. “Yes. I hit the number last night.” 

“W-What,” Ren whispered. “Then, how much money are you bringing in?”

“Well,” Yusuke hummed. “If projecting it annually with no change, which at this rate,” he chuckled impishly, the sound sending a chill down Ren’s spine. “I predict it will only grow. However, Hifumi and I have theorized I will make around $60,000 a year.”

Ren shrank slightly. $60,000 a year was much better than the poverty they were living in, but as vampires living in San Francisco it might as well have been chump change. He managed a smile, though, and prayed that Yusuke’s ‘cult following’ would grow a bit bigger and didn’t all go to his head. Maybe they’d be able to get a better apartment. 

“That’s amazing, Yusuke,” Ren said. Yusuke smiled back.

“Yes,” he sighed happily. “But, might I make a request to you? If you have time in between these meetings with Goro Akechi, of course.”

Ren felt a blush creeping on his cheeks. He got up suddenly, walking to the kitchen to get a bottle of  _ True-O _ before Morgana or Yusuke could notice how red his face was turning. “Sure, what’s up? Need more synthetic?”

“Well, that too, but I’m sure I can manage,” Yusuke said. “I was wondering if I might be able to borrow your talent for a few videos?” Ren rubbed at his face as he plucked a bottle from the fridge and loosened the cap. He tucked it away in the microwave for ninety seconds and turned to Yusuke, seeing he was looking at him, expectantly. Ren’s worn-out expression apparently did no favors, and Yusuke pressed a bit more. “Your brief cameos have my audience wondering your true identity. We wouldn’t have to reveal anything more than you’re my roommate and prodigy—”

“Prodigy,” Ren echoed with a short scoff. Yusuke’s head tilted to the side, confused. “Yusuke, I’ve been a vampire for well over a decade. I’m not a fledgling anymore.”

“Of course,” Yusuke chuckled. “Sometimes it’s difficult for me to remember since you’re the youngest of our coven.” 

Ren’s blush worsened. He looked at his drink spinning sadly in the microwave. Sixty seconds left. “I’m surprised that your followers even noticed me.”

“How could they not?” Yusuke asked, and turned back to the laptop, taking Ren’s phones in each hand. “Whenever you’re in the background of a video, I always get questions about you.” Morgana had stuck his face in the laptop, staring at the screen.  _ Can he read? _ Ren wondered. “And so many asking for your social media handles. It’s a shame you don’t have any.”

“I do, too,” Ren mumbled. “I just don’t post on them.”

“Anyway,” Yusuke continued, ignoring him, “Perhaps I could try out a few make-up looks on you? I would compensate you, of course, but it could be fun? We could drink wine and talk.”

Ren leaned against the counter and squirmed slightly, unsure of how to refuse. Part of him willed him on, told him to be a good sport and help out his friend. Would it mean more subscribers and followers, and thus, more money? Maybe then Ren could get his own bedroom… Another part scolded him against the idea, telling him he’d only be used for more in Yusuke’s schemes, that his friends would see, quite possibly Akechi…

The microwave went off. Ren reached inside and collected his drink, palming it carefully. 

“Sure,” Ren finally said. “But, don’t go too crazy. And uh… can we make up a name for me? Just in case someone sees it who doesn’t know me.” Ren wasn’t sure how it would help his cause, but at least he could deflect, maybe convince others it wasn’t him, or his evil twin. 

“I promise you, it will be very tasteful,” Yusuke said, placing a hand to his heart as he turned around, the other hand outstretched, Ren’s new phone in hand. “Here you are.”

“Woah,” Ren murmured. His feet moved from under him and Ren reached out, taking it in hand with a gentle grasp. He was worried the slightest movement would break it. “It’s all moved over?”

“I believe so,” Yusuke hummed as he stood to his feet, crossing to the kitchen. “Mind if I take one of your drinks?” 

“Sure, go for it,” Ren said, absentminded as he powered on his phone and immediately navigated to his messaging app. The group text message was notifying that he had twenty-two unread messages, but Ren instinctively selected Akechi’s contact.

“ _ You really didn’t have to send me a new phone.” _

Ren moved to set his phone down, but Akechi’s response was almost instantaneous. 

“ _ But I take it you’ve moved into it?” _

Despite himself, Ren smiled. “ _ With a bit of help, yes.” _

Akechi’s typing was signaled with three dots bobbing up and down. Ren watched them with rapt interest, suspense building in him as they emerged, disappeared, returned, and slipped away.  _ Did his old phone do this, or was Ren not normally interested enough in what others had to say? _

Just as Ren was about to set the phone down and go change out of his loungewear, a soft chime signaled Akechi had finally responded. 

_ “So I don’t get a thank you?” _

_ “Thank you.”  _ Ren responded, guilt swelling in him as he keyed it in. He paused, his fingers hovering pathetically over his keyboard. Morgana rubbed up against his leg, narrowing his eyes in concern. Ren reached down to pat his head, which Morgana accepted begrudgingly before prowling after Yusuke, begging him to feed him. 

_ “Are you working tonight?”  _ Akechi responded.

Ren sighed in relief at the question, knowing it was an easy one.  _ “No. Got the day off. What about you?” _

_ “Just finished with my night class. I have to write a paper in a bit.” _

_ Oh, right,  _ Ren thought. Akechi was still a student that had classes and lectures. From what he’d gathered from his friends, it seemed like a full-time job, but for Akechi, it seemed like a hobby. He mentioned a book-tour with his new novel, and Ren presumed in the nights where he succumbed to the will of the day manager and endlessly cleaned prep bins, Akechi was being interviewed by a variety of media personnel. How Akechi managed to juggle being an honors student on top of it all and still maintain his status as a spokesperson for human rights against vampires, Ren wasn’t sure. He could barely manage to make sure his socks matched on his way out the door. 

_ “Should be easy for you if you can manage to write a book on top of all that coursework.”  _ Ren replied.

_ “You would think. I haven’t prepped anything for it, so I assume I’ll be up for most of the night with it.” _

_ “When’s it due?” _

_ “Monday morning at 10.” _

Ren winced. It was Saturday. Unsure of how to respond, Ren typed in an emoticon.  _ “ :-( “ _

_ “Wow. Haven’t seen one of those since 2005. Use the emoji keyboard.  _ 😬 _ ” _

Ren flushed and weakly typed his response.  _ “idk how :-P “  _

Akechi paused for a moment, but his response was a link to a webpage to the support page from the phone’s manufacturer. After clicking through, Ren navigated to the steps: Go to settings, find the keyboard option… new keyboard… Emoji. Ren’s eyes lit up as he pressed the button. Before he could navigate back, Akechi had texted him, the message showing up overhead. 

_ “Did you get it?” _

_ “Yeah.  _ 😃” There were so many variations on a smile that Ren scanned through them all after he sent the message.

_ “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Ren.” _

_ “ _ 😊😁🥳😄” This was fun.

_ “Enjoy.  _ 😅” Akechi responded after a short pause. Before Ren could navigate away, Akechi sent him another message.  _ “The camera on that phone should be a lot better than your old one. Give it a whirl.” _

Ren raised his brow as he exited out of the messaging app and navigated to an app labeled ‘Camera’. Self-explanatory enough, his old phone had one just like it. When the camera turned on, Morgana was at his feet and directly in the frame, his brilliant blue eyes looking up.

“You look pleased,” Morgana chirped, his mouth open as Ren took the picture with a loud shutter. Morgana’s pupils narrowed to thin slits and his back arched up. He darted out of the way as Ren looked at the picture and leaned back on the couch. Morgana was back at his side in a second, however, and perched over Ren’s shoulder to look. “Ugh. Warn a guy.”

“It’s kinda cute,” Ren observed. “I should send it to the group.”

And with the practiced ease of a thirteen-year-old vampire navigating back to the messages, Ren sent the image. Though after a short glance, he noticed he didn’t send it to Haru, Ann, Makoto, and Ryuji like he had planned, he had sent it to  _ Akechi _ . Panic flooded him in a hot wave of lava as he broke out into a sweat.

“H-How do I delete it?” Ren asked Morgana. When Morgana gave Ren a clueless look, he turned to Yusuke. “Yusuke! I sent Akechi a picture. How do I get rid of it?”

“You already sent it,” Yusuke said plainly around a swallow of  _ True-O. _ “Like words spoken, you cannot take it back.”

“Shit,” Ren hissed. Akechi’s three dots were bouncing up and down again.

_ “Sorry, I meant to send that to someone else.”  _ Ren hastily typed.

_ “Cute. I didn’t know you had a cat.”  _ Akechi responded. In another message,  _ “What’s its name?” _

Ren glanced at Morgana again. Morgana’s tail tapped the back of the couch with a sharp  _ thwack. _

“What?” Morgana asked.

“What should I say?” Ren grimaced.

“Tell him my name, stupid,” Morgana tutted. “It’s not that hard.”

_ “Morgana. He was a stray. Got him recently.”  _

“Oh, Ren,” Yusuke’s voice cut in. “Turn on the TV, would you? The Ambassador is speaking now.”

“Yoshida?” Ren asked, and reached across the couch to the remote. The news channel was already pulled up - they hadn’t really made a habit of watching cable unless it was for the news, which by the time they woke up had already been curated towards those afflicted with the VA-1440 virus. 

Sure enough, there he was. Ambassador Yoshida, the spokesperson for vampire legislation, was sweating visibly and pale as he drank quickly from a complimentary water bottle provided to him. Cameras were snapping audibly, their flashes washing out Yoshida’s pale face. Below, the headline declared:  _ EMERGENCY BRIEFING REGARDING VA-1440 MUTATION _ . 

_ “Hello, everyone, thank you for joining me on such short notice. We wanted to debrief you all on the findings we’ve uncovered regarding the recent mutations to the VA-1440 virus, known more commonly as the ‘vampirism’ virus. Recently, we’ve appointed a team of our leading scientists to study the latest mutation to the virus. We have discovered this issue is only able to be passed to those already afflicted by the VA-1440 virus. That being said, we are now classifying this mutation as a viral infection spread through saliva.” _

Ren’s phone lit up. A message from Akechi.  _ “Are you watching the briefing?” _

Ren quickly responded.  _ “Yoshida? Yeah, watching it now.” _

Yoshida cleared his throat again and apologized, hastily dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. The sweat seemed to regenerate quickly despite this, but Yoshida pressed on.

_ “There is no reason for alarm, however,”  _ Yoshida smiled diplomatically.  _ “We have the situation under control and currently, we have contained all known infected individuals. Dr. Takuto Maruki is spearheading our efforts to develop a cure and a preventative. Our outlook is optimistic,”  _ Yoshida dabbed at his sweat again and coughed into the cloth. _ “We will continue updating you as we discover new information regarding this viral infection. I can answer any questions you might have to the best of my ability—” _

A deafening roar of reporters swelled inside the room, the swarm of their voices speaking all at once blocking out any chance of understanding a single question. Ambassador Yoshida paled visibly and sank into the table, patting his forehead again. With a shaking hand, he pointed to someone within the first few rows.

_ “Ambassador Yoshida, you say this infection is contained but we’ve seen recent reports of single cases popping up at various events like the Coalition Fundraiser. Can you explain that?” _

Yoshida cleared his throat. _ “We’re aware of this and investigating it very closely, but unfortunately I cannot disclose any details regarding that case at this time. Next?” _

_ “Yoshida, your delayed approach to this is drawing criticism from human-protection activists. What do you want to say in response?”  _

_ “We wanted to gather all the information we possibly could before we announced our efforts to the public. It didn’t make much sense to notify you when the matter was of little risk.” _

_ “Has the risk grown? Are we in danger?” _

_ “The situation is currently under control,” _ Yoshida coughed and wheezed slightly, and hastily apologized as he reached for his water. He drank it with ferocity, the bottle snapping and crackling under his grip was audible through the microphone.  _ “We’re investigating how these individuals might have contracted the infection, and quarantining them.” _

Ren swallowed. Yoshida was looking paler and paler by the second. 

_ “When do you plan on releasing the identities of the vampires who went berserk after contracting this infection?”  _

_ “V-Very…” _ Yoshida coughed again, this time so severe he had to lean away from the microphone and double over. The cameras began to click and flash wildly, the room’s heavy murmur was increasing in volume, becoming anxious. 

Ren could feel the tension through the television screen, and noticed he had been holding his breath. Breathing out shakily as Yoshida continued to cough and sputter, breaths few and achingly far between, Ren turned to his phone and saw Akechi was typing. 

Ren typed back first, sending a short message.  _ “This isn’t good.” _

As if on cue, Ambassador Yoshida took a loud, rasping breath in and turned back to the cameras, his eyes swollen and bloodshot. Tears streamed onto his ghastly pale cheeks, which by all accounts should be tomato-red with the difficulty he had breathing. Instead, his skin was cast in a gray hue, his lips turning purple. He slumped sadly in his chair, one hand clutching onto the table, nails digging into the fabric. 

_ “Ambassador!” _

_ “Ambassador Yoshida!” _

_ “Someone help him!” _

The hopeless cries of the press morphed into screams of terror as Yoshida stood, knocking the chair behind him to the floor. An aide rushed to help him, a young man with blond hair and heavy-rimmed glasses, a white short-sleeved button-down and black slacks. Yoshida took the aide by the shoulder and shoved him away, in the direction of the press. Several reporters shrieked as their equipment toppled and Yoshida, breathless and shambling, hunched down to battle security as they stormed the stage. 

Ren would have thought the broadcast would have cut out there, but it continued without anyone there to cut audio or turn the cameras away. A large man, twice the size of Yoshida, attempted to apprehend him, but barely dodged Yoshida’s large, arching swipe, nails drawn. Yoshida’s fangs, longer than Ren would have imagined, were bared and dripping with spit as he hissed and snarled back at them.

_ “Take him down!” _ A man cried from off-camera. At the mere sound of the cry, Ren felt dizzy and his vision began to swim.  _ “Take him out!” _ Desperate, this time, more frantic. 

Then, what Ren had feared became reality. A loud pop. Yoshida’s head knocked back and a dark red splatter of blood shot through the air, staining the face of the security guard and splashed against the white backdrop. Screams and shouts of terror and panic spread through the venue like wildfire, but before they could fully manifest, the news outlet cut away to two frightened anchors, as pale as the papers that lay scattered across their desk. 

At his side, Ren’s phone rang. Akechi’s name greeted him, and as if acting on instinct alone, Ren picked it up and accepted the call. In the kitchen, he could hear Yusuke’s phone ring as well. It was Hifumi. Yusuke began speaking in hushed tones, and without giving Ren so much as a glance, quickly padded into his bedroom and softly cracked the door.

“Akechi,” Ren breathed. “You saw that, right?”

_ “Yes,” _ Akechi’s voice was shaken.  _ “I did. We need to discuss this.” _

“Now?” Ren asked.

_ “Preferably. You’re available, aren’t you? I’ll send you an address. _ ”

Ren’s brow furrowed. “In person?” 

_ “Yes, Ren,” _ Akechi nearly snapped back, and spoke as if he were talking to an idiot.  _ “Call yourself a ride there. I’ll compensate you.”  _

The call ended before Ren could sputter out any form of protest. Before Morgana or Yusuke could ask, a text from Akechi resounded on Ren’s phone, detailing the address. Without giving them an explanation, Ren stood, stepped into a pair of shoes, fetched a jacket, and left the apartment. 

*******

The rain outside pitter-pattered steadily in a white noise that harmonized with the slick tires of the car. The sound would only serve to further numb Ren’s mind, still paralyzed in a state of shock from the mental image of Ambassador Yoshida slowly turning over, the tortured look of pain settled in his old, kind expression, twisting him into a monster in front of millions of eyes.

_ Why hadn’t they cut the cameras? Why had the station allowed it to happen? _

Ren stared out the window with a staggered breath, watching in a daze as street lights flickered by, separating each segment of the sidewalk into blurry frames as the car sped past. He supposed that Akechi would be stewing over a few theories, but Ren had devoted all of his mental energy to trying to connect the dots. These attacks were purposeful, there was no denying it. Why would the ‘infection’ only spread to people who were unfavorable? Was there even a new source of infection, or was it carefully planned poison?

Ren glanced down to his phone to see how much further he had in the back seat of the ride-share, noticing he was quickly approaching his destination. Akechi had directed him to  _ The Shadow _ , a small jazz club and lounge located inside Fisherman’s Wharf known for its live music on the weekends. It seemed like an odd location at first glance, but after the last three encounters with Goro Akechi, Ren was beginning to stop wondering what he was thinking and just go along with the flow. 

Ren gathered his things and thanked the driver as the car slowed to a soft stop just outside the door. He sent a quick text to Akechi letting him know he’d arrived, and rushed to get out of the rain and under the club’s burgundy-colored canopy. 

A polite host greeted Ren inside, as did the mysterious and overwhelming scent of leather and wood polish. Ren had asked for Akechi’s table, and without a beat, the host turned and pointed to the far booth in the corner of the club, nestled comfortably away from the stage. 

Akechi sat there, his head tilted down as he stared at his phone. There was a small crease in between his brows, wrinkled slightly as he scrolled his thumb along the touch screen. He hadn’t looked up when Ren approached, and almost neglected to acknowledge him altogether when Ren slid into the opposite side of the booth. 

“Hi, Ren,” Akechi murmured after a beat, still unable to look up from his phone.

Ren shifted in place, a small squirm rising out of him. He felt like he’d been placed in the principal’s office. “Akechi,” he nodded. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hm.” Akechi abruptly set his phone on the table, then, screen-side down and took in a sharp inhale through his nose. “Ren,” he began, his voice soft, calculated, “I think we’re now at a point where you can stop being so formal with me and just call me Goro.”

Ren was taken aback. “Are you sure?”

“Very,” Akechi answered. “Now.”

Akechi straightened up in his seat and leaned into the table with his elbows, resting his chin on the back of his hands. Underneath the table, Akechi crossed his legs, the side of his shoe resting on Ren’s knee. Ren debated pulling away, but opted to remain still, instead. 

Akechi’s eyes met his, his brown irises dully lit with an inner flame. Ren wondered if it was directed to anyone in particular, or if he was still mulling over the night in his mind, just as he had after the gala. Akechi didn’t tear away his gaze even when he began to speak, his attention completely fixated on Ren.

“I want to hear your theories,” Akechi requested.

Ren blinked. “Why mine?”

“If you haven’t caught on,” Akechi sighed. “I’m not  _ just _ paying you for your physical abilities. I’m paying you for your mind, too.”

“I hope you’re not paying for it,” Ren forced a light chuckle. “I’d give it to you for free.”

Akechi half-smiled. “Anyway. Your theories?”

Ren swallowed, his posture stiffening as he readied himself and his thoughts. “It’s not an infection.” Based on Akechi’s expression remaining unchanged, Ren assumed himself correct that Akechi had been thinking the same. “And these aren’t random events. They’re connected, and I’m guessing whoever’s in on it isn’t a fan of Ambassador Yoshida.”

Akechi blinked idly, tilting his chin to the side and staring at Ren through his dark lashes. “Not an infection?”

“Not spread like you’d think,” Ren muttered. “I’m thinking it’s like poisoning. Why would the symptoms present themselves at such…” Ren struggled for the appropriate word, “…opportune moments? We can’t really unpack what happened with Miwa’s attacker, but if you look at the two latest vampires going berserk, they’ve all been carefully planted. The one attacker to take out that unfavorable woman, and now, taking out Yoshida.”

“You’re making this connection because of Yoshida’s catastrophic approval rating?” Akechi asked.

“Yeah,” Ren sighed. “I don’t really involve myself in politics, but there isn’t a soul out there who’s in favor of him, right?”

“Who  _ was _ in favor of him,” Akechi corrected with a grim tone. “I underestimated the number of silver bullets these security companies carry nowadays. I didn’t think they had ample supply.”

“And what is really interesting,” Ren pressed, “is how Yoshida said they were analyzing how the ‘infection’ operated to try and develop treatment or a cure. So, why have they been killing every vampire that loses it? They’re not keeping these people alive to study them.” 

Akechi glanced to the side. When it broke their shared eye-contact, Ren hadn’t realized he’d been holding in his breath. He took in a shaky breath as Akechi bit his lip and twiddled his thumbs. 

“And what would an autopsy reveal, if they’re studying the corpses?” Akechi continued Ren’s thought. “So, are they planting the virus in humans as well?”

Ren shook his head. Akechi turned back to Ren, eyes narrowed. “It would be a huge gamble.”

“A gamble?” Akechi echoed.

“When people ‘turn’,” Ren began to explain, “there’s a huge roll of the dice going on at a molecular level.” Takemi had explained this to him, once. It felt odd repeating it. “The body can either succumb to the virus and develop partial immunity to it, act as a carrier, and live on as a vampire, or they can … well, die.”

“So, you’re saying that there’s always a chance the turn won’t take,” Akechi murmured to himself, eyes drifting away.

“A  _ big _ chance,” Ren answered. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if this infection is killing more vampires than we’re aware of, if it  _ really is _ spread through saliva. But…” Ren began to trail off.

Akechi’s brow raised. “But?”

“But, it seems too convenient,” Ren muttered quietly. “I don’t think this is a random ‘mutation’ like they’re wanting us to believe.”

After a beat, Akechi began to nod slowly as he digested Ren’s theory. Ren watched as Akechi pondered it with the thought and began to speak, but before Akechi could speak a word, a woman had approached the table with two small menus.

“Good evening,” she greeted them. “Would you two like anything to drink? Here is our list of specials for this evening.”

Ren looked it over and grimaced at the prices. Before Ren could opt for a simple cup of coffee, Akechi handed his own menu back to the server with a small flick of the wrist.

“Two Ambushes, please,” he requested. The server took note and left them alone a beat later. Akechi turned his head back to Ren, his polite smile falling when he met Ren’s stare. “What? I’ll pay.”

“An arm and a leg, sure,” Ren grumbled. “So, what about you?”

Akechi’s smile returned, this one wry, lacking his charming facade. “What  _ about  _ me?”

“Your theories,” Ren pressed. “What are  _ you _ thinking?”

“The same as you,” Akechi hummed back. “With some minor variations, of course.” Ren leaned back in his seat and tilted his chin, expectant. Akechi relented with an impish glint in his eye that turned hard, unforgiving as he spoke. “That this is all related to Masayoshi Shido.”

Representative Masayoshi Shido, the favorable newcomer to the world of politics, if Ren remembered correctly. At the gala, a private cruise with him around the bay was the key item up for bid at the silent auction, and by the sheer amount of interest in having a chance to speak into the man’s ear, Ren could assume he was a desirable ally to have. Ren had gotten a chance to see him in person at the gala shortly before the silent auction and witnessed a verbal spat under the thin guise of a debate take place between him and Akechi. 

“Shido,” Ren echoed. “Okay. But how?”

Akechi perked up slightly. “I’ll briefly fill you in on the inner workings of the political world at the current moment. With Yoshida now dead, Shido is now the most favorable representative to take his spot.” Akechi tensed visibly as he spoke, and once again Ren was reminded of the mysterious tension that existed between the two. “Shido has a seedy past. And as a rising politician, he has to come up with ways to dispose of any loose ends. He doesn’t prefer to keep unstable catalysts in his company, so what does he do?” Akechi waved his hand in a chopping motion, loosely aimed at his neck. Ren pursed his lips and avoided eye-contact, loosely tracing a ring of grain from the wood table with his index finger. “The woman who was attacked at the gala wrote Shido in an ill light. Mysterious that her throat was the one torn out, isn’t it? And the one man standing in his way of rising up the ranks…”

“Was Ambassador Yoshida,” Ren murmured.

“You  _ do _ listen well,” Akechi praised. Ren scoffed when he detected little sincerity in Akechi’s tone. “So, the only unanswered question we have is Miwa, and reports suggest Miwa was known to keep shady company in her private circles. Perhaps she threatened to take some allegations public?” Akechi shrugged his shoulders. “There’s simply no way to tell. All the evidence we have pointing Miwa to Shido is a few pictures they took together a few months prior, but it’s little to go off of. Miwa was a prominent celebrity and Shido is a popular politician. It’s not uncommon that two people of those statuses would mingle. 

“It’s a working theory, I won’t admit that it doesn’t have its own downfalls,” Akechi continued, a small sigh leaving him as the waitress returned with their two drinks, asked them if they needed anything else, and with a small shake of the head and a polite ‘no, thank you’ from Akechi’s lips, she departed. Akechi slid the drink closer to him and bobbed the straw up and down. “But, as you pointed out, the coincidence that these enemies and threats to Shido’s reputation are all subjected to the same violent deaths seems… too convenient.”

“I take it you have a history with Shido,” Ren commented, looking up to Akechi and holding his stare. 

Akechi scoffed. “Another  _ astute  _ observation, dear Watson,” he mumbled dryly. “How did you come to such a miraculous conclusion?”

Ren bit the inside of his cheek. “Not sure if you’re being serious,” Ren began, “but at the gala when you two talked… You looked ready to kill him.”

Akechi’s eyes widened slightly. “I was that obvious, wasn’t I?”

“You hide it a lot better with strangers,” Ren responded, and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sure it’s a lot easier for you?” Akechi said nothing and glanced away, raising the drink to his lips and sipping at it idly. Ren glanced at its contents as Akechi drank, thinking the drink looked entirely too sweet for Ren’s liking. It was a frozen drink that transitioned from purple to blue, garnished with a cherry and wedge of pineapple. He hesitated to try it, instead watching to see if Akechi would answer him. He didn’t. Clearing his throat, Ren pressed on. “In any case, I’m glad we’re on the same page about this.”

“And you must recognize the risk you’re placing yourself in,” Akechi remarked. “I’ll allow you to back out of this, if you choose to.” Akechi glanced back to Ren, then, his brown eyes cold, steely. “The situation’s become much more serious, and it will likely only get worse.”

Ren reached out to rest his hand against his drink’s cold surface, tapping it restlessly with his fingertips. His resolve hardened, and Ren returned the harsh stare. “Then you must recognize why I’m still here.”

Elsewhere in the club, soft bass began to ebb out of the speakers in gentle waves, the quiet brushing of a maraca’s steady beat accompanying a silky female voice as she began a song. Akechi stared at Ren for a hard second, and Ren could only assume he was scanning him for any lies, deceit, or facades. When Akechi didn’t find what he was searching for, his gaze softened and he hung his head slightly, a small laugh leaving his lips.

“I see,” Akechi breathed in a voice so quiet Ren could scarcely hear over the soft jazz. Akechi tilted his chin back up and leaned into the table, his finger brushing up against the cut fruit garnishing his drink. “However, I still can’t overlook the possibility of you getting hurt,” he said, his tone pensive. “What happened at the gala—”

“Was what you hired me to do,” Ren cut in, not wanting to hear about his ‘valiant sacrifice’ again.

“And if you had back-up, I’m sure you would’ve been able to walk out of the venue with at least  _ half _ the suit intact,” Akechi tutted. Ren flushed. “I’ve made an investment since then.”

Akechi turned to his side and produced his silver briefcase, setting it gently on the table. Ren wasn’t sure what he assumed Akechi had carried in there - his laptop, his textbooks, maybe a few papers? But as Akechi thumbed in his combination and opened the lid, Ren knew in his wildest dreams he wasn’t expecting  _ this. _

In Akechi’s briefcase were a simple revolver and a small red case. Akechi opted for the case, plucking it out and leaving the gun on display as he fiddled with the lid to the small box. Ren paled visibly.

“What the  _ hell  _ are you doing?” Ren demanded, reaching over to shut the lid. It fell shut with a sharp  _ clack _ . “You can’t just whip out a gun like that while you’re in public,” he scolded.

Akechi glanced at Ren as he slid the lid off the red box, setting it by the closed briefcase. “What? I’m a regular. They won’t mind.” 

“So, it’s real?” Ren asked, shrinking back as he watched Akechi manipulate the red box.

“Of course it’s real,” Akechi tutted. “I’m not a child who goes around waving toy guns for show.” Before Ren could respond, Akechi produced a chrome bullet from the case and held it in between his thumb and forefinger, holding it out to show Ren. “ _ This _ is our insurance policy.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer, instinctively reaching a hand out to accept it and take a closer look. Akechi shook his head. “What?” Ren asked. “Don’t trust me?”

“It’s a silver bullet,” Akechi explained, turning it over in his hands. “You said that vampires are vulnerable to the effects of silver, yes? I remember your reaction to it when we first met, and the man at the store said one shot anywhere to the body would kill a vampire.” 

Ren’s brow furrowed. Something wasn’t right. At the mere sight of silver, he would have been reeling, as if Akechi had put out a chopped onion on the table. Even sitting in such close proximity to  _ pure  _ silver would cause Ren to shy away. This wasn’t the case. 

Ren waved his fingers at Akechi as he held out his open palm. “Trust me on this. If I burn myself on it, it’s my fault. Not yours.”

Akechi gave him an uncertain glance before he dropped the single bullet into Ren’s hand. He watched Ren’s expression as Ren clasped his fist around the bullet and held it tightly.

Ren could feel a slight warmth emanating from the bullet, but the heat was hardly uncomfortable - in fact, it felt like sticking his hands in proximity to a fire to take off the chill. After a long pause, Ren opened his palm and slid the bullet onto his fingers. He began turning it over in his hands, pressing down and feeling a bit more heat radiate from its contents. 

Ren raised the bullet to his mouth and set his tongue to it. Akechi gasped sharply and reached forward, grabbing Ren’s wrist and yanking it away from his mouth.

“What in God’s name are you doing? Are you a  _ toddler _ ?” He hissed. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“It’s not a real silver bullet,” Ren explained, dropping it back onto the table so Akechi would release him. It plinked sadly on the wooden surface and began to roll on its side, spinning in a circle. “If it were, there’d be a hole in my hand and a burn on my tongue.”

Akechi scoffed and picked the bullet back up, glaring down at it. “So there’s  _ no _ silver in here?”

“There’s barely any,” Ren explained. “Certainly not enough to kill a vampire. If you shot one with it, they’d just push it out like a splinter, and the wound would heal over.” Ren leaned back slightly, almost shying away from how Akechi scowled down at the bullet. “You can test it out on me, if you’re not convinced.”

Akechi’s blinding anger turned to Ren with such ferocity Ren felt a shiver run down his spine. “I would, if only to put you and your stupidity out of your misery. Do you have a  _ death wish _ , Ren?”

Ren shook his head quickly. “I swear I don’t. But uh, you should take it back to whoever sold it to you.”

“No shit,” Akechi huffed. “Ugh. What a pain.”

Ren could sense that he’d been convinced it was real. Had the shopkeep talked him into purchasing it? Tricked him and made Akechi pay a pretty penny? Ren cleared his throat softly, redirecting Akechi’s attention.

“Relax,” Ren said. “Take me with you when you go to return it. I can be your… um. Silver detector.” 

Akechi glared forward at Ren as he picked up the bullet and replaced it back in the case, fastening the lid on before tossing it back in his briefcase. “Idiot,” he mumbled. Ren’s brow bounced, off-put and offended, if only a little bit. “You’d get yourself killed, poisoned even, just so we have a  _ real _ silver bullet?”

“Unless you buy a metal detector,” Ren offered. “Or take it to a jewelry shop. Just seems the easiest option, since you’re paying me already.”

“For your wellbeing,” Akechi tutted. “Not  _ just  _ your body, or your thoughts.”

“That’s a new item to the list,” Ren murmured. Dr. Takemi would have exploited him already, tenfold. 

Akechi scoffed and toyed with the combination on the lock with idle fingers, avoiding Ren’s gaze. For a moment, Ren could sense the adolescence still within Akechi, and for the slightest, most minuscule amount of time, felt like he was sat next to a toddler. Before Ren could fill the silence, Akechi spoke, his voice hard, almost pained.

“I  _ never  _ want to feel the way I felt when you shoved me out of the way of that vampire’s attacks ever again,” he whispered, leaning his right temple into a closed fist. “That… helplessness. The vulnerability. And when he attacked you in my stead,” Akechi sighed heavily. “The amount of guilt I felt afterward, even after you’d left my apartment.” He swallowed with some difficulty, Ren noticed. “The… worry. When you wouldn’t pick up your damn phone. I know you can handle yourself, I’ve seen it, but in the event we’re outnumbered, or God forbid taken by surprise,” Akechi pursed his lips in thought for a moment before straightening out and leaning back into his seat, finally meeting Ren’s eyes with a steely gaze. “... I’d at least have a chance of getting us both out alive.”

“An insurance policy,” Ren echoed plainly. Akechi nodded. “I mean, if that’s what you want, then sure. I’m all for it.”

Akechi exhaled swiftly through his nostrils, a wry scoff. “You’re very agreeable, aren’t you?”

“I can’t afford not to be,” Ren shrugged, breaking his stare. Akechi’s eyes lingered on him, Ren could feel them on his face. 

“Well, then,” Akechi murmured. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to warn you to keep your schedule free for the next few days.” Ren glanced back to Akechi, his full attention devoted. Akechi pressed on. “The Coalition of Peace will be holding a banquet next week. I’m sure with Ambassador Yoshida’s passing, it will be postponed a few days, but regardless, I’ve been invited to attend.

“It will be similar to the previous event, though instead of raising funds, it aims to connect influencers, politicians, lobbyists and the like over dinner, and I suppose brunch for your folk. I am assuming with great certainty that after the events of the fundraising gala, security will be tighter than usual. I personally have no agenda there other than to stay in good graces with the Coalition and play nice with a few politicians, and normally I wouldn’t ask you to join me having almost every confidence they wouldn’t allow another attack to occur,” Akechi paused to offer Ren a droll smile that seemed forced and a small shrug of the shoulders. “But, here I am. And if nothing else, it would provide an excellent excuse for you to get fitted into a proper suit for future events.”

Ren tried to withhold his disbelief, but his smile broke through. Akechi looked at him quizzically.

“Is there a problem?” Akechi asked. “Don’t tell me you’re bound to that barista job over this.”

“No, it’s not that,” Ren chuckled softly, and tried to decide if the act made Akechi flush at all. “Well, I guess I’m just wondering if it’s  _ just _ for the suit.”

“It’s not,” Akechi said plainly, as if discussing the weather. “I’ve also come to enjoy your company.”

Ren blinked. “Seriously. Death wish and all?”

Akechi smiled, a rare genuine sight, paired with a curt nod. “I find myself speaking very openly around you,” he admitted. Ren felt his cheeks burn. “I can’t explain it, not even to myself.”

The music in the jazz club had grown louder, silencing both of them as the singer trailed on a long vocal run, the bass and drums pattering away. And in a way, the silence benefited them both. Akechi’s gaze had waned to the far corners of the room, and Ren finally had a chance to try his drink. It had partially melted, but Ren’s mouth nearly puckered at how sweet it was, his fangs aching in their hiding spot at the harsh chill of the slush sliding past. 

“What’s wrong?” Akechi asked.

“It’s sweet,” Ren remarked. Akechi shrugged and took another sip from his, not phased. “You like sweet things, right?”

“On occasion,” Akechi responded. A short pause. “Do you mind if I tap into your wealth of vampire knowledge, just for a bit?”

Ren’s eyes narrowed as he took another sip of his drink, but decided the sugar was going to cause him a headache if he persisted. Pushing it away towards Akechi to drink the rest, if he chose, Ren nodded.

“I’m not as ‘wealthy’ as my roommate, Yusuke, but sure. Shoot.”

Akechi hummed, the sound low, contemplative before he spoke. “...Is there any knowledge about how vampires can reproduce?”

Ren bit his lip, his nose wrinkling. “That’s a strange one.”

Akechi gave Ren an annoyed glance, patience wearing thin. “I didn’t need the judgement, thank you. An answer is fine.”

“Uh,” Ren exhaled sharply and reached up to fidget with his hair, coiling a finger around one of his messy black curls. “Well, um… Not that I know of. I mean, you’re talking about natural reproduction, right? Not like turning people.”

“Right.”

“Well,” Ren murmured. “I think I heard once that It’s about as rare as winning the lottery. What’re those odds? One in three-hundred million? Because the baby has to already be introduced to the virus, and develop immunity. I’ve never heard of a case, but I think… I remember Yusuke saying something about it.”

Akechi leaned in slightly, his eyes widening. “So, you’re saying it’s possible?”

Ren swallowed hard. “What’s up, Goro?” He asked, caught off-guard. “Are you thinking about starting a family?”

Akechi sighed heavily, running a hand through his smooth bangs and beginning to massage his forehead as if he were trying to will away a headache. 

“No, just…” his voice faded slightly into the background, but Ren could still barely pick out his voice amid the bass and drums. “... just curious.”

Another comfortable pause settled between them despite how Akechi had responded to Ren’s light-hearted comment. Akechi looked as if he were thinking from behind his hands, but Ren was struggling to tell. Once the music had quieted down again, Ren cleared his throat softly. Akechi seemed to snap out of his daze and gather himself.

“Sorry. I was lost in thought,” he explained. Ren nodded. He’d been right. “I didn’t mean to keep you here longer than you need. I should get going, too.”

They stood in tandem, Akechi’s silver briefcase knocking against the wooden table lightly before it swung casually at his side in a loose grip. Akechi walked ahead of Ren, his scent trailing behind him in a dense, invisible fog. Ren paused before he took in a deep breath, letting the sweet smell fill him and suffocate him slowly. The back of his throat ached considerably as he tried to swallow it back with little success. 

Akechi glanced back at him, his eyes cold as he held the door open for Ren. Ren feared for a moment that he’d been caught in the act, but was relieved when Akechi’s gaze softened upon meeting his. 

Outside, the quiet rain had begun to grow heavier, almost deafening amid the soft breeze that kicked up the drops and splattered them on the burgundy canopy above their heads. A car whizzed by in a blur, tires kicking up water from a puddle that had recently formed. The jazz could still be heard inside, the heavy bass reverberating out of the brick walls like a steady heartbeat. 

“Let’s split a ride,” Akechi murmured. “I know it’s not far for me to walk, but.” 

“Don’t want to get your hair wet?” Ren asked playfully.

Akechi sighed sharply, annoyed. Ren bit back a smile to no avail, smiling as Akechi ducked skillfully to a canopy under a closed brunch spot where there were less people hanging around. Ren watched as Akechi quickly ordered a car with zero hesitation, plotting in Ren’s address for the final destination. Akechi didn’t try to hide his phone from him, nor did he chide Ren for looking over his shoulder. 

“You still have to write that paper,” Ren remembered suddenly, a pang of worry settling in his stomach. “Are you going to have enough time?”

“Plenty,” Akechi tutted, sending a few short messages to an unknown contact before pocketing his phone and settling against the wall beside Ren. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said.

Ren raised a brow. “You’re not cheating your way through school, are you?”

“Asks the high-school dropout,” Akechi retorted. Ren shrank slightly. Akechi softened, as if remembering himself. “No... I’m not. You’d be amazed by how simple an undergraduate program is, and the amount of people who don’t try hard enough because it isn’t convenient for them.”

“I would,” Ren murmured. “Just ask my friend Ryuji.”

“He’s the one who works with you,” Akechi remembered aloud. Ren nodded. “Well, no offense to him, but I never pegged him as an intellectual.”

Ren smiled easily, sighing. “Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

A pause settled between the two as the rain drowned out their thoughts, falling heavily down on the canopy and casting the rest of the outside world in a beaded curtain that ebbed and waved with the slight breeze. Beside Ren, Akechi’s breathing took on a heavy, reflective quality. Before Ren could probe him further, Akechi had broken the silence, turning towards him slightly, his body still facing the road. 

“Ren,” he began softly. “Are you sure about this?”

The question had taken Ren by surprise. He turned his head and noticed Akechi was glaring down at the gathering puddles, his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

Ren swallowed as he shifted his balance to his right leg. “About… this,” Ren echoed, momentarily clueless. Akechi’s glare turned to Ren, a sardonic smile painting his features. “Oh. This.”

_ This _ . They still hadn’t found a good word for it, had they? 

“Why are you asking me again?” Ren asked. Akechi’s shoulders sagged with a pensive sigh. “I thought I’d made myself clear before. Yeah, I’m sure.”

“For once,” Akechi pressed, his tone cutting as he glared forward. “Just.  _ Think _ . Think it through. Fully.”

Ren turned towards Akechi with a sharp scoff, took a step closer, and leaned his left forearm against the wall as he glowered back at him. “Goro… Do you think I haven’t  _ thought  _ about it?” Ren asked. Akechi glared back at him, almost incredulous. Ren’s stomach felt as if it’d been doused in ice water and sprout fur. Shifting uncomfortably, he leaned his shoulders forward, pressing into Akechi’s personal space. Ren blinked at him, shaking his head slightly. “Are you serious?”

“Have you fully weighed the risks, now that we’ve both decided these attacks aren’t coincidental?” Akechi asked, as if Ren had asked what color the sky was, as if he was an idiot. “Remaining close to me, you’re only at greater risk of contracting it. I have no doubts that I’ll end up within the crosshairs sooner or later. Which is why I’m asking you one final time,” Akechi said. “And asking you to  _ very  _ seriously consider this. If you agree, I’m not allowing you to back out. You’re in this with me until the end.”

_ That was new. _ Ren set his teeth together as he clenched his left hand into a fist and tensed it to a steady pulse, flexing out his fingers after each squeeze. While the offer should have only scared Ren away, he wasn’t surprised when he found his resolve had hardened, and that his decision only grew stronger, more certain.

“Goro,” Ren breathed, stepping closer after a long beat of silence. Akechi didn’t flinch, only staring closer at Ren’s features, eyes darting from his eyes, to his hair, back to his eyes, and across to Ren’s hands as he blocked him in, hands pressed firmly against the brick on either side of Akechi. “I’m absolutely sure of myself. I don’t think I could stand the thought of losing you, and not just the possibility,” Ren flinched visibly, his grimace blending horribly with a growing blush. He firmly shut his eyes, trying to will the mental image away by force. “The…  _ guilt _ . I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for being such a coward and running away from it.” 

“Then you understand,” Akechi breathed, his voice fading slightly in with the rain, “why I feel the same way.”

“Is that why you keep asking me if I’m sure about this?” Ren asked, his tone cold. He almost winced at how it came out. Desperate to fix it before the damage had been done, he continued, “Goro, this… this isn’t just a job for me anymore.”

“And you’re not just a thug I hired out of a vampire bar, anymore, Ren,” Akechi snapped back. Ren took a step back, but Akechi quickly closed the distance as soon as it was formed. “I take it you haven’t noticed that in terms of confidants, I’m severely lacking compared to you. And I don’t know how it happened,” Akechi’s breath caught in his throat as he tried to speak again. Ren had a feeling he knew why. “But, you’ve become someone that I’m not sure I could lose so easily. It’s why I want you to really,  _ really  _ seriously consider going through with this.”

Ren rolled his eyes, despite himself. When he looked back to Akechi, he saw in his brown eyes he was hurt, if only for a second. His eyes turned cold again. 

“You can afford  _ not  _ to be a hero,” Akechi tutted. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”

“I am,” Ren scoffed back. “I told you two times now. I’m going through with this.”

“Even though you might die?” Akechi asked. Ren nodded. “Even though you might contract that virus and get a silver bullet in your brain?” Akechi asked. Ren nodded. “Even though you’ll risk losing your friends, your family—”

“— I don’t have a family.” Ren interrupted him. 

Akechi paused, his hard eyes searching Ren’s for a ‘but’, for a lie, for any type of response. Instead, Ren stood firmly in front of him, Akechi barely a foot away. When Akechi didn’t find what he was looking for, perhaps any inner doubt within Ren, his hand reached forward and he grabbed Ren’s collar, twisting it around his knuckles and tightening it into a fist.

“This is your  _ last  _ chance,” Akechi whispered, his tone lethal. “What is your choice?”

Ren glared down at him and matched his voice, and with no hesitation, said, “I’m not going anywhere.”

After a long second, Akechi’s hold loosened and he let Ren go. Instead, he pressed his palm to Ren’s collarbone, the heat from his skin radiating past his shirt and into Ren’s body, filling him with the sweet warmth that seemed to exude around him. His eyes softened into a bit of melancholy, but his lips carried a somber, bittersweet smile. 

“Then,” Akechi breathed, almost a sigh of relief, and reached up to tuck a black curl behind Ren’s ear. “I’m never going to let you go.”

Ren sighed shakily, shivering at the touch. His voice was steady, however, when he responded, “And I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Akechi glanced down as he set a hand to Ren’s shoulder, though a faint beep interrupted them, as did a car softly stopping to the curb behind Ren. 

“Our ride’s here,” Akechi murmured, reaching out for Ren’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Accepting it, Ren nodded and softly cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

***

The heater was running inside the car when Akechi and Ren entered, providing an immediate flush to both of their cheeks as they got settled. The driver confirmed Akechi’s name and within seconds of their seatbelts being fastened, the car was moving gently along the rain-soaked streets. Akechi’s house wasn’t far away, so it would be a short ride for him. Hardly necessary - he could’ve walked and been home in twenty minutes if he chose, but he didn’t, and instead they sat side by side in another comfortable silence. 

Ren glanced over to Akechi and noticed his hair had only gotten slightly damp in the short jog over to the car, but the sight of it made Ren smile, if only slightly. It reminded him of outside the cafe the other night. If these heartfelt … instances were going to continue, Ren wasn’t sure his boyish heart could take it. 

Ren sighed while Akechi yawned. Akechi had turned to look out the window, resting his head on the cool window. The hot air was starting to make Ren’s head swim, but he wasn’t bold enough to ask the driver to turn it down. Bold enough to say what he had… but…

… That… had happened, hadn’t it…?

_ “Then, I’m never going to let you go.” _

At the memory, Ren’s cheeks burned a vibrant pink, and where Akechi’s fingers had slipped past his ear, the skin there began to tingle and burn. His heartbeat raced and he felt himself break out into a sweat. And what had Ren said?

_ “And I won’t let anything hurt you.”  _

Desperate for some relief from the embarrassing memory that spurred on this hellish heat, Ren pressed his right temple to the window and raised a palm to his forehead, brushing his bangs out of the way and letting some of the cool air seeping through the window brush over his skin. Letting out a tortured sigh, Ren did the best he could to hide from Akechi, but in the small car, it made it nearly impossible.

“Excuse me,” Akechi’s voice was silken-soft, cutting in over the quiet radio. “Would you mind turning down the heat? I think we’re warm, now.”

“No problem,” the driver murmured. He cut off the heat, and where there was once the dull  _ whurr _ of the fan was now nothing. Ren almost felt naked once it had left, but was overwhelmingly thankful for its absence.

_ That  _ had happened. It had happened. And it was final. Was it final? Akechi had been completely serious, back there. And to be honest, Ren had been too, but this all felt so… sudden. Not in a bad way, not at all, but the entire experience gave Ren whiplash. Looking back on it, it was hard to tell that it had happened minutes ago. It felt like a week ago. 

Never. Never letting him go. What did it mean… did it mean indefinite employment, just as he had promised? Did it mean companionship, since they had no family to turn to? The touch behind the ear… the way Akechi held out his hand for Ren before they left the protection of the canopy and leapt into the rain...was it…?

Ren felt as if the car was suffocating him now, and for a moment Ren wondered if the driver had turned the heat back on, and cursed him. When he peered forward and noticed that the dial had not moved, he cursed himself instead, and moved his palm to touch his cheek. It burned back at him with a feverish heat, and his heart only worsened once he realized how red he must be, and if Akechi could see.

Ren glanced over Akechi’s way, and locked eyes with him. Ren nearly fainted when he realized Akechi had been staring at him, likely observing him in the cold way he normally did, though his eyes were much softer than they’d ever been. It was a foreign sight. 

Turning his head forward, Akechi spoke again. “Right here’s fine. It’s a bit of a tricky street, I’ll save you the trouble.”

What? Had the car ride already gone so fast? Ren looked bewildered at Akechi as he gathered his things and opened the door, though he looked back at Ren before he stepped out.

Smiling softly, as if it were just for Ren, Akechi said, “Have a good night. I’ll text you?”

Ren tried to speak around the knot in his throat, but his voice threatened to crack and break. “Y-Yeah. Sounds good. Good luck on your paper.” 

Akechi chuckled. “Thanks. I’ll need it.” And the door shut.

The driver waited until Akechi made it to the sidewalk before the car lurched forward, and pulled away. Ren couldn’t help himself - he stared out the rain-splattered window until the street was no longer visible, and the scenery had been replaced with the ambient landscape of the city. Nothing special, not anymore.

Without Akechi there, the car felt so much more colder. Ren peeled himself away from the window with a heavy sigh and bundled his hands in his jacket, lowering his head and closing his eyes. Maybe if he tried to sleep… there were about twenty minutes until he’d be at his apartment…

And behind his eyelids, Akechi’s face was there. It smiled back at him, his brown eyes soft, warm, and welcoming. His cheeks were pink and glowing, his hair perfectly tousled atop his head. Ren took in a deep breath and noticed that Akechi’s scent was still hanging in the car like a thick fog, and while Ren had thought he’d grown accustomed to it, was surprised when the back of his throat burned and his chest felt like it’d been pumped full of air.

Ren opened his eyes and stared down at the floorboards, feeling the chill of the world creep closer and closer until his body let out an involuntary shiver as his mind played over the scene, an excruciating record that skipped and replayed, over and over. 

_ “Then, I’m never going to let you go.” _

_ “And I won’t let anything hurt you.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm here earlier than I thought! Thank you for reading the seventh chapter of True-O! I promised some more gratifying content in the last chapter... so I hope I delivered! :^)
> 
> This chapter was a joy to write and a thrill to have my beta, Sam at @CometSams on Twit read. I hope you enjoyed as well! And to all that left a comment on the last chapter and I didn't respond: thank you VERY much for your kind words and taking the time to write a comment. Your kindness fuels me on, and I LOVE hearing your theories about what's going on. 
> 
> If you notice, there's an end-cap on the chapters! We're currently at 15. That number is subject to change and may flex, but I wanted to reassure you that this fic will end one day, and you won't be kept guessing :) The outline is 95% complete, just deciding on how I want it to wrap up. 
> 
> And, if you choose to, my tip jar is open! The funds raised there help support me financially and help me spend more time writing. Please note it is not necessary at all, but simply there if you want to tip. You can find it at https://www.buymeacoffee.com/maweea. Speaking of, thank you SO SO SO very much if you've tipped. My heart is very full. <3 
> 
> As far as next chapter, I'll aim to have one up by New Year's Eve at the latest, but quite possibly earlier. You can follow my Twit @maweepa for more updates, and also if you enjoy Genshin Impact, P5R, or Hades! I'll see you very soon! <3


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren joins Akechi to shop for a silver bullet, a suit, and accompanies him to the banquet presented by the Coalition of Peace.

The next twenty-four hours for Ren went by in a blur, his mind blanketed in a thick fog of thoughts that hardly anyone could permeate. The closing shift was a quick one, and thankfully Ryuji didn’t ask any probing questions, and his friends, who he loved, steered clear of him. It wasn’t uncommon for Ren to go into these funks, after all. Though more often than not they were drenched in self-hatred and existential dread. 

This time it was different.

The same embarrassment… no,  _ joy _ ? Joy wasn’t the exact word… Just like their relationship, Ren couldn’t come up with an appropriate description that contained all the complex and intricate details of this multifaceted…  _ thing  _ that existed between them. The internal battle over what to call it raged on within him, and thankfully, Yusuke and Morgana had also taken a hint to let Ren work it out on his own, leaving him alone well into the evening after he got home. 

The next day, Ren returned from a quick outing to purchase some more synthetic blood, his mind again reliving how Akechi had tucked a hair behind his ear and dragged him out of the protection from the rain and into the cold drizzle, fingers weaving together...

Ren’s phone pinged and snapped him out of his habitual daydream like Pavlov’s dog. Morgana leaped out of the way and onto the floor, stretching out his back legs while Ren scooped out the device and read the screen.

_ “Busy right now?” _ From Akechi. Ren’s heart felt like it skipped a beat.

Perhaps out of desperation for a chance to interact with Akechi, Ren quickly typed back,  _ “Just got home.” _

Akechi’s response was swift. _ “Turn on Channel 5.” _

And Ren obeyed without much fuss, turning on the TV and waiting for the image to adjust. It wasn’t until Ren realized, after a slow, dumb second, that Channel 5 was the very same channel that Ambassador Yoshida had been, for lack of a better word, publically executed on. Ren swallowed as the audio buffered along with their cable box, though instead of falling back into the constant mental replay of the moments leading up to Yoshida’s demise, Ren found himself staring at an entertainment talk-show with a bubbly female host and Goro Akechi sat across from her in a plush leather chair. 

_ He didn’t tell me he had an interview,  _ Ren thought.

“Maybe he didn’t think it was a risk,” Morgana chirped as he joined Ren on the couch. 

“Yeah,” Ren agreed. That sounded like Akechi.  _ Probably _ .

“This evening I’m joined by Goro Akechi, the famous honor student from Sterkley making headlines with his debut book,  _ The Eternal Prosperity. _ Thank you for joining us.”

“My pleasure, thank you for having me,” Akechi said, and smiled in the way that Ren had come to not only expect but recognize. Charming. Extroverted. Polite. Plastic. “It’s an honor to be here.”

The interview went on as much of Akechi’s interviews did, including the same questions about how he managed the load of being a double-major honor student on the dean’s list while writing a book and beginning his career as a political analyst and human-rights advocate, and Akechi’s same responses as to how it came naturally, that he was pleased that others thought it was an accomplishment, and how he hoped he could be a role model to students out there looking to succeed in their individual fields.

Ren had made himself a bottle of  _ True-O, _ knowing how the interview would play out after standing at his side for several conversations with strangers. He was about to turn it off until the conversation shifted, and the female host inched forward in her seat.

“Goro, can we talk about your recent interview with  _ Bloodthirsty _ ?” 

Akechi laughed, the sound warm and bubbly. Expertly practised, and for once, not fake. Ren’s brow lifted with mild shock. “Sure, but what can I say? I believe I said enough in the interview.”

“I mean,” the host giggled, and held up a copy of the magazine. “The  _ cover. _ ”

Ren’s jaw all but hit the floor.

The  _ cover. _ Dear Lord, the  _ cover. _

It had been heavily edited for one, but underneath  _ Bloodthirsty _ ’s violent script were Akechi and Ren, held in an intimate embrace. Pale hands gripped tightly to Akechi's polo shirt; his very own gazed pierced straight through the screen, staring right at him. Akechi’s face, wistful and surprised, was a thing of beauty. Compared to Ren’s deathly pallid tone, Akechi was vibrant and full of life, a small blush on his cheeks that Ren had come to know and, in a deeper sense, love. His soft brown eyes were looking to Ren as his head was softly tilted to the side, allowing Ren to hover over his neck, rosy lips parted, and bone-white fangs inching out.

“Did t-they edit in those fangs?” Ren asked the screen, as if it would answer him. “I didn’t have them out, did I?”

“What are you talking about?” Morgana asked as he casually scratched his ear with a back paw. “They were totally out.”

Ren felt like choking as embarrassment and shame pulsed through him with each painful throb of his heart.  _ Oh, fuck. Oh, God. _ It had been one of the first real times that he’d been able to get a  _ really _ close smell of Akechi, and he remembered he’d lost himself. He recalled that when he resurfaced from the ecstasy of Akechi’s scent the photographers and the reporter, Veronica DeMortia, a vampire herself, were stunned into a grave silence.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Morgana begged, and Ren felt another wave of guilt hit him once he realized his thoughts were bleeding out past his mental barriers and that Morgana was taking heavy collateral damage.  _ “Hey!” _ Morgana yelled. His paws were on Ren’s side, claws digging into the fabric of his pants to get Ren’s attention. “C’mon, it’s not  _ that  _ bad!”

“I don’t think I can talk to him again,” Ren whined. “I don’t think I can ever leave the house again.”

“The magazine came out the other day, right?” Morgana asked. “That means Akechi probably saw it already when you met up with him…”

Ren groaned audibly as he sank back into the couch. Morgana huffed and stepped closer to sit on his chest, staring down at him intensely as he batted Ren’s face lightly with a blunt paw. 

“But that means he liked it, right?” Morgana asked. “Did he say anything about it?”

Ren retraced the evening and came up short, though remembering how he’d pledged his unwavering allegiance to Akechi only made his despair worse, and he whimpered softly as he shook his head. “No, he didn’t bring it up.”

Morgana’s ears curled back as he processed the new information Ren’s mind had presented.  _ “That’s _ what you’ve been thinking about?”

Ren scowled. Morgana glowered back at him. Before either of them could say another word, Ren’s phone pinged and caught both of their attention. Another text from Akechi:  _ “Like it? I thought I’d get you a copy.” _

Ren’s frown deepened. He wasn’t sure he wanted a hard copy of  _ that _ living in his house for Morgana and Yusuke to freely boggle at.  _ “No need,” _ Ren texted back. 

_ “Haha. Have it your way. By the way, get Monday night off. We’re going out.” _

It left little choice in the matter, but Ren’s heart fluttered at the idea of another outing with Akechi. This must’ve been the banquet dinner, right? Swallowing any giddy feelings and trying to remember that he was still deeply unsettled by the contents of the magazine cover, Ren texted back an affirmation and glanced at the clock, standing to get ready for work.

_ Two days to go. _ Was it childish to count the days? Ren tried to ignore how Morgana’s tail wagged anxiously as he watched him go. 

*******

The two days couldn’t pass by fast enough. When the day finally came and Akechi had texted Ren the address, Ren was so anxious to get going he neglected to feed himself, assuming he’d find a chance along the way to quickly grab a bottle of synthetic. 

Ren exited the black sedan with an exasperated sigh as he slung his bag over his shoulder. Akechi’s invitations to go out were getting increasingly more difficult to navigate both on a mental and social level. Ren had never gone about refusing them, not like he had a choice. The only trouble was that, as Akechi had warned him, his barista job was getting in the way, even with forty-eight hours notice.

It had taken pleading to Mishima to close for him, the one employee who belonged to the morning shift that still respected him, and Ren still squirmed at the thought of how much groveling and desperation it had cost. Either way, Ryuji would carry the close, he hoped, and Mishima would keep Ryuji from chopping off the heads of any patrons who disagreed with him or held up the line. 

The sun was in the process of setting; due to the carefully picked location in the city, the surrounding buildings were painted gold, amber, and crimson as the sun sunk deeper and deeper past the horizon. It was the earliest Ren had been out in a while, but he was thankful that it was within a reasonable hour. He sneezed once upon exiting the car. 

Akechi had directed Ren to a weapons shop in Haight-Ashbury, which Ren thought curious — for the six years he’d lived in San Francisco with Yusuke, he’d never really frequented the neighborhood despite its saturated vampire population. On another note, he thought that in a neighborhood filled with so many beautiful murals proclaiming peace and love, it was odd that there was a shop that sold guns, knives, and other oddities. 

It was located off the main drag of Haight Street, and thankfully due to it being sunset on a weeknight, it was rather desolate. There were hardly any tourists due to it being the off-season and the local vampires were pooling into the laid-back cafes to order something with enough caffeine to spur them to life. All that remained was the slow-paced strolling of other locals and the strange sight of a performance artist busking in the middle of the street and a pair of naked men with tiny hats on the tips of their penises, which to any passing police officer was probably enough clothing for them to look the other way and avoid interacting with them. 

Even for Ren, it was a bit too much. He thanked his lucky stars that he and Yusuke hadn’t been able to afford an apartment in the area. He wasn’t sure his heart could take it.

Ren finally spotted Akechi outside of the tiny, black-brick shop located next to an auto repair garage. In the shop’s window was a pulsing neon green sign of the store’s name,  _ ‘Backup’, _ on an explosive script. Inside, Ren could see katanas, swords, and combat knives on display. A small sign in the corner of the window read,  _ ‘Vampire Weaknesses, Repellents, and Deterrents Inside! Ask our friendly staff.’  _

“You sure I should go in?” Ren asked Akechi, smiling a greeting to him when Akechi’s head snapped up from his phone. When Akechi gave Ren an unsure glance, Ren pointed to the sign.

“Hi, Ren,” Akechi greeted him properly, before continuing. “Oh, that? Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s fine.” Nodding towards the store, Akechi held the door open for him. “Come on.”

Ren paused briefly before his feet moved out from under him, his subconscious taking over and convincing any rational part of his mind that Akechi would be right and there would be nothing to worry about, even though the store advertised very specific ways to kill him. 

Inside, the store was claustrophobic and dense. Products resided on metal shelves with handwritten prices on worn tags, camouflage attire was hung on metal hangers, and combat boots came in a variety of sizes and colors. Perhaps it had been an army-surplus store at one point. Perhaps it always had been, but was marketing towards a new demographic with the recent public announcement that vampires were living among humans, hoping to capitalize off of the public fear of the unknown. 

Ren ran his fingers over an exorcism kit that looked like it belonged in a gift-shop rather than a store selling ‘practical’ solutions for repelling and disposing of vampires. With a careful finger, he lifted the wood cover to the exorcism kit’s box and peered inside. There was a vial of holy water there, a pocket bible, a rosary, and a wooden cross with a silver depiction of Christ. The silver from the cross sent a sudden warmth over Ren’s hand, like he’d placed his hand too close to a flame.

“Ah,” Ren gasped softly. The wooden lid to the kit shut with a dull  _ clack _ as he yanked his hand away. Two steps ahead, Akechi glared back at him. 

“Perhaps you should keep your hands in your pockets,” Akechi scolded him in a sharp whisper. 

“You said it’d be safe,” Ren retorted. 

“Yes,” Akechi said. “For someone with common sense.”

“Can I help you two find sum’in?” 

The two turned to the source of the third voice at the back of the store. It was gruff and short, entirely unwelcoming.  _ Ask our friendly staff _ , Ren remarked inwardly.  _ Where were they? _

Akechi stepped forward to the back of the store, his princely facade now in place on his demeanor. Ren was stunned at its sudden appearance as he followed dumbly behind him. Was this an appropriate place to be charming? Ren stepped to the side of Akechi and was greeted with the shop owner who sat behind the counter with a magazine, a toothpick loosely hanging from a chapped lower lip. The man was in his mid-thirties with platinum-ash blond hair loosely held by a camo patrol hat that shrouded a piercing gray stare. He wore a military-green jacket and a black band-tee underneath. He also wore a pair of tan combat boots, rugged and worn, Ren noticed, as the man leaned back and set his feet up on the glass counter and flipped to another page in his magazine. With a proper look at the cover, Ren breathed a sigh of relief when it wasn’t  _ Bloodthirsty, _ but a hobbyist magazine for guns and ammunition.

“Ah,” the shopkeep murmured. “You’re back.”

“Yes,” Akechi sighed pleasantly. “Unfortunately.”

The shopkeeper's gaze turned to Ren. Ren felt it nearly cut through him, feeling exposed despite his hands being tucked into his jacket. The shopkeep inhaled sharply through his nose and bounced a brow, an amused smirk painting his features.

“And you brought company,” he muttered. “What. Don’t trust my stuff?”

A short sniff confirmed it for sure, and while the odor wasn’t as pungent as Yusuke’s, the man reeked of the familiar vampire scent — old potpourri and rose petals.  _ Well, this was ironic.  _

Ren wondered briefly why a vampire would be selling anti-vampire weapons, but Ren supposed the same argument could be used against him. Why was a vampire protecting a notable individual famous for hating vampires? Based on how strong the smell was, Ren either assumed the vampire to be twice Ren’s age or, more likely, Ren was thirstier than he thought. 

“You sold me a slug,” Akechi said carefully, his tone calculated, “in place of a silver bullet.”

“Listen, kid,” the shopkeep sighed. “If I sold a silver bullet to every prick who came in here, it wouldn’t be good for business.” He rolled back his shoulders, an audible crack from his bones resounding to Ren’s ears.  _ Why was such a normal action so intimidating… _ “Imagine when the police show up asking questions, like who supplied it? Doesn’t look good for me, does it?”

Akechi breathed out shakily, his charming mask cracking slightly and narrowly exposing the annoyance Ren felt radiating off of him. “I think I understand,” Akechi murmured. “I’m simply looking to protect myself and my colleague here against the viral infection that’s spreading. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, not a bit,” the shopkeep said, and said nothing more.

Akechi pursed his lip and glanced over to Ren briefly, his brown eyes calculating. He turned back to the owner and produced his wallet from the breast pocket of his black blazer. 

“You see,” Akechi began, his voice soft, “we’re in need of that silver bullet. And whatever other protections you have against a vampire of increased caliber.” Akechi flipped it open onto his gloved palm and pinched inside, producing three bills, which by the coloring, Ren could tell were larger than anything he’d ever seen dropped into his tip jar at  _ StarVucks _ . Akechi slapped them on the counter. “You must have something.”

The shopkeep looked up from his magazine and paused before looking back down again. 

“Really, kid,” the man sighed again, louder, and before he could finish his thought, Akechi clicked his tongue and retrieved two more bills, dropping them on top of the other three. 

“Any more and I’ll find someone to melt the damn thing down from silver myself,” Akechi said with a curt nod. “Well?”

The man swung his boots from the counter back to the floor with a huff and stood, his height dwarfing Ren and Akechi by at least half a foot. Ren swallowed and on reflex, took a step back. The man walked to the side where a small flap on the counter separated them, and unlocked it before holding it up, nodding them through.

“On the back wall,” the owner grumbled, pocketing the bills. “I’m gonna go have a smoke.”

Ren briefly wondered if there was a risk of Akechi stealing what he needed and leaving, however it seemed that had already been thought out. Three cameras were pointed in their direction - one as they entered the back of the store, another pointed at an expansive glass display case, and the third was pointed towards the back door where the owner slipped out to light a cigarette. The smell in such proximity told Ren he was just outside and could hear if anything inside went awry.

“This isn’t his first rodeo,” Ren murmured to Akechi, following closely as they approached the case and looked at the contents inside. Displayed were guns— real guns —with extended magazines, some pistols, some more military-style, and others ranging on the fantastical. In the corner, there was a section of the display case that was nearly all chrome and silver. Ren kept a healthy distance, already feeling the sting of some of the contents from where he stood six feet away.  _ How did this man work so closely to it everyday? _

“I understand his concern,” Akechi responded as he peered inside the glass. “You wouldn’t want the average citizen waving around a bullet that could kill you, would you?”

“And like it’s any different for regular humans,” Ren scoffed. “If anything it’s more dangerous to be selling the fakes.”

“I’ll let it slide,” Akechi whispered. “He’s just looking out for himself. Can’t say I blame him.” Akechi glanced over his shoulder to Ren, an eyebrow raised at his distance from the case. “I take it that these are the real deal?”

Without hesitation, Ren said, “Yup.”

Akechi smiled, the expression full of mischief. “What happened to my loyal silver detector?”

Ren wrinkled his nose as he held back a scowl. “Just pick one.”

Akechi chuckled lightly as he knelt down to the corner of the display to further inspect the options. They’d have to fetch the shopkeep to retrieve what they needed once Akechi finally made up his mind, but until then, they were on their own. Ren turned to face the other metal rack opposite the glass display case, his eyes widening slightly at the wares.

Some of the items being sold there were likely much more effective than the items being sold in the front. Mainly, there was a mag-flashlight outfitted with a UV bulb to mimic the effects of direct sunlight. Ren wasn’t sure what it’d be used for, perhaps for security guards? Beside it was a small basket of wooden stakes, each a different type of wood, some boasting that they contained a silver core. Ren thought briefly that the core wouldn’t matter unless the wood had been destroyed upon impact, but even then… 

Handcuffs with a silver core stood out to Ren next. They proudly announced that these handcuffs were non-lethal intervention that would weaken a vampire and keep them restrained without causing ‘significant burns’. According to the packaging, they had been endorsed by several police and security organizations across the world. Ren picked up the box and flipped it over, noticing a red heart symbol tucked away in the corner. ‘ _ Great for the bedroom, too!’ _

Ren replaced the box back on the shelf, feeling his face burn a deep crimson.  _ That seems excessive, _ Ren thought, trying to ignore how his heart was racing. Despite the fact that he tried to ignore he’d ever read that, his mind was quickly trying to decide if a normal pair of handcuffs in  _ that _ situation would be enough. Surely not, right? Because one foul yank from a vampire of Ren’s strength, or stronger, and they’d be reduced to shrapnel… 

“Find something?” The shopkeeper asked Akechi, his voice in such close proximity it made Ren jump. 

“Yes, I think so,” Akechi hummed, and pointed into the glass case at a single bullet, similar to his fake one and displayed in a white case. 

The shopkeep nodded and retrieved a set of keys at his hip to unlock the case. Shortly after, he donned a pair of thick leather gloves and reached inside to collect the bullet, his expression stoic. Akechi softly cleared his throat.

“Before I purchase this,” Akechi began, “do you mind if my partner tests it out?”

“Partner?” Ren and the owner echoed in unison.

“Go ahead, Ren,” Akechi gestured to the bullet in the man’s hands. 

Ren gave him an anxious glance before raising a hand to the bullet. The blistering heat emanating from its surface was enough to prove it was real, but Akechi nodded him on. The shopkeep glanced at Ren, shocked into disbelief as Ren set his left index finger to its surface.

Akin to touching a cast-iron skillet directly out of the oven without a mitt, the searing heat burned through Ren’s finger and up through his wrist. A razor sharp and lightning-quick pain shot through his arm and ended at his shoulder in an electric burst. Ren yanked his hand away almost instantly with a pained gasp as the lingering effects fizzled painfully at his neck, willing away tears as he sucked in a breath, biting his lip. He turned away from them as he shook out his hand and paced out to the front, trying to wave away the pain that still persisted and hide how severe it was from Akechi.

“Seriously?” The shopkeep tutted at Akechi, almost scolding him. “I could’a told you it was the real deal.”

“You were very convincing last time with the fake.” Akechi’s voice was hard and impatient. “We’ll take that one. Thank you.”

Ren looked up from his self-pity to see Akechi quickly joining him at his side. Before Ren could reassure him he was fine, Akechi had taken Ren’s left wrist and yanked it closer to him so that he may observe it. The skin on Ren’s index finger that made contact with the bullet was paper-white, and the surrounding area an angry and fierce red. As Akechi inspected Ren’s wound with cold eyes, Ren felt it begin to throb painfully. It was already beginning to swell. 

“Goro,” Ren whispered, his voice still shaken from the amount of pain it caused him. Even he hadn’t expected it to be that severe. Akechi refused to look up at him, though his gloved grasp did soften at the sound of his name. “I’m fine,” Ren assured him with a forced chuckle. “Relax.”

As if to prove a point, Akechi pressed a finger to Ren’s with moderate pressure. Ren winced, a small breath of pain escaping his lips. 

Tutting, Akechi slid his hand back to Ren’s wrist and held it in a loose hold. “Don’t touch anything else,” Akechi instructed Ren in a voice so serious that, had it been directed towards anyone else, might have sounded lethal. Ren felt a shiver roll down his spine at its quality, a flicker of fear tickling inside of him when the shopkeep returned without his gloves and the white case in hand, sealed with a clear film. 

“That five-hundred should cover it,” the owner grumbled. “Let’s say two hundred for the finder’s fee, and three-hundred for the bullet?”

“An expensive bullet.” Akechi turned back to the owner, dropping Ren’s hand and approaching the counter. “Considering I already bought a fake, and that I could reveal to several media outlets you’re selling so many fakes.”

“When you factor in that it’s the price for me forgettin’ that a very famous  _ Sterkeley  _ student came in here to buy a  _ Colt Python _ and a bullet for killin’ vamps,” the owner shrugged plainly as Akechi’s lips parted in shock, and continued, “sounds like a bargain to me.”

“Fine,” Akechi sighed after a beat, his right hand hovering over the bullet. “Then we’re settled?”

“Sure thing,” the man said. “Thanks for your continued business.”

Akechi took the case into his hands without another word and turned back towards Ren, nodding him along to the exit. Ren followed dutifully behind him, feeling as if he had to hold his breath until the door to the shop closed and they’d put a block’s distance behind them. In the silence that hung between Ren and Akechi, Ren’s index finger began stinging again, throbbing with his pulse. Ren tucked his hands into his pockets and clenched his left hand in a fist, attempting to apply pressure to reduce some of the swelling. 

“You didn’t have to  _ touch  _ it,” Akechi said after another block’s trek in silence. Ren couldn’t see his expression as Akechi had taken a few paces lead ahead of him. “I thought you might be able to just feel how much was in there based on proximity.”

Ren’s blush worsened. Looking into a shop window as they strolled, Ren swallowed back a knot in his throat. “Well, you’re satisfied with your purchase, aren’t you?” He asked.

“Is it still hurting?” Akechi asked, pausing slightly to match Ren’s pace, and again took his wrist into his grasp.

“No, it’s fine,” Ren said as he slid his arm out of Akechi’s hands with an annoyed glance. Akechi’s stare hardened. His hands returned in an instant and he halted their strides, pulling Ren’s wrist closer to him. “Goro,” Ren scolded him. “It’s  _ fine _ ,” he stressed. “It’ll go away.”

“So, why hasn’t it?” Akechi asked, and turned Ren’s finger over, inspecting it more thoroughly once Ren stopped flexing against him in an attempt to hide it. 

“I don’t know,” Ren huffed. “Just. Stop worrying about it.” And in a desperate attempt to change the subject, asked, “What else did you need to do before this thing?”

Wise to Ren’s game, Akechi was visibly irritated by Ren’s objections, but played along and began walking, his hand sliding down to hold Ren’s. “We need to get you a suit,” Akechi said, apparently unaware or uninterested in how red Ren’s cheeks were, and how his grasp stiffened in Akechi’s hand. “And if we can get it fitted before the event, even better.”

“I can help pay for it,” Ren suggested. Akechi didn’t even give him a glance. “Seriously. I’ve got Yusuke and I’s debts paid off, now, thanks to you.”

“Then consider it a gift,” Akechi said. “Or an investment, just like the bullet.” Meeting his eyes now as they paused for traffic, Akechi tilted his chin. “Or an apology.”

Ren shrank slightly and glanced away.  _ Why did he have to fret after him like this…  _ it was Ren’s stupid idea to touch the bullet.

Before Ren could get his thoughts straight, the road had cleared and they continued walking on. Ren had no idea where they were headed, only that Akechi seemed to have their destination in mind. With Ren’s hand in Akechi’s, Ren struggled to even form a topic that would allow for small-talk, and simply allowed themselves to walk a few more blocks down Haight before Akechi turned them to enter through the open glass doors of a brightly lit store.

Inside, suits of monochrome color hung sparse and neat on hangers, dress shoes were displayed in pairs on a backlit shelf on the left wall, and ties were held in small drawers on tables located around the store. An attendant immediately greeted them, a petite woman in her early twenties with a high brown ponytail and a modest black skirt-suit. 

“Welcome in,” she approached them with her hands folded neatly at her hips.. Her gold name-tag read ‘HELEN; ASST. MANAGER’. “My name’s Helen, what can I help you two find today?”

“We’re looking for a suit for him,” Akechi said pleasantly, all anger or annoyance from previous events evaporating from his voice. Ren smiled slightly, assuming now after a few encounters with Akechi out in public that not only was this his go-to facade with strangers, but that this was his ‘customer-service’ voice, as Ryuji liked to call it. “One that he can wear today, preferably.”

“Off the rack then, alright,” Helen nodded, looking over Ren. “Any colors or styles you’d prefer?”

“Black,” Akechi cut in, smiling sweetly. Helen mirrored the smile, though her surprise was hardly hidden in her hazel eyes. “Slim fit, single-breasted with a notch lapel.”

Helen’s eyes widened, but she sighed happily in a way that had Ren relieved for her. At least Akechi knew what he wanted. She waved for Ren and Akechi to follow her towards the back of the store.

“I take it you’ve got this handled,” Ren mumbled to Akechi. 

Akechi’s brow bounced, his lips curling into a half-smile. “I wouldn’t trust your taste to make decisions. No offense.”

“None taken, but,” Ren swallowed back any bitterness he had when Helen met his eye as she passed, collecting a pad of paper, a pen, and a roll of cloth measuring tape. When she left, Ren’s eyes narrowed fiercely at Akechi.  _ “Slim-fit?”  _ Ren asked. Hadn’t he learned his lesson last time at the gala when he busted out at the seams before he even landed a blow on the wild vampire?

“What?” Akechi asked, sitting down on a wide, white couch that sat opposite Ren. He crossed his legs and leaned back, propping an arm on the back of the cushion. “I think it’d look the best on you. Do you want to wear a baggy suit and look like a thirteen-year-old going to his bar mitzvah?” 

Helen approached again before Ren could properly scowl at him, and drew back a curtain to a well-lit dressing room with a raised platform. “Could I please have you undress?”

Ren’s head snapped in Helen’s direction, frightened. “Undress,” he echoed, his body feeling numb as his ears burned with a fiery blush. 

Helen nodded and smiled reassuringly. “Down to your boxers and undershirt is fine.” 

Ren met Akechi’s eye, and he swore inwardly when Akechi glanced away, his lips pursed together to hide a grin.  _ He’s enjoying this a bit too much _ , Ren thought. Turning back to the dressing room, Ren glared at Akechi before he snapped the curtain shut. 

Stepping out of his shoes, Ren thought briefly about how not even twenty minutes ago, Akechi was fretting over Ren wounding himself in the name of their ‘insurance policy’, but when it came to Akechi wounding Ren’s composure or witnessing him flustered, Akechi would simply sit back and enjoy the show. He’d been the happiest Ren had ever seen him, at least in the genuine sense. Those smiles and that devilish look in his warm brown eyes, bright and glinting with mischief… it was a night and day difference to how he handled himself in front of reporters, politicians, and strangers. 

Ren had taken off his pants and folded them haphazardly on a nearby chair within the fitting area. He shrugged off his tan jacket and tossed it in the same direction, though his hands hovered with hesitation over the hem of his black shallow scoop-neck t-shirt. He didn’t have an undershirt, but he  _ did _ have this shirt that he wore  _ under _ his jacket.

For his dignity, that would be his excuse. Unsure whether or not to keep his glasses on or off, Ren opted for the latter and carelessly threw them into the growing pile of clothes.

Ren pulled back the curtain, interrupting the pleasant and unremarkable small talk occurring between Helen and Akechi. Helen went right to work without taking in Ren’s athletic form, bless her, but Akechi’s eyes lingered over him.  _ Was that a blush? _ Ren thought, his gaze narrowing to get a better look. Before he could tell, Helen had turned Ren to the side and set a tape measure to his shoulders and blocked Akechi’s view. Uninterested, it seemed, Akechi took out his phone and began idly scrolling through its contents.  _ What’s he thinking?  _ Ren’s mind was racing trying to keep up with his thoughts, all of which revolved around Akechi’s stoic position on the couch.

Ren breathed out in a shaky sigh, shouldering Helen’s quick request for Ren to remain still. 

“I’ll go grab what I can find,” Helen said after what felt like an hour and what in reality was only five minutes. “Could you take off your shirt?” 

Ren balked at her and shrank slightly. With his heightened hearing, he could hear Akechi chuckle and felt his heart begin to race with his thoughts, taking the lead. “Uh, is one not okay?”

“I can get you a white one,” Helen offered. “Just to try on the suits.”

“S-Sure,” Ren choked out. Helen left, and Ren dejectedly raised his t-shirt up over his head, tossing it behind him. When he glanced back to Akechi, he caught him staring. “Enjoying the show?” Ren asked.

Akechi’s blush had disappeared in an instant, his soft gaze turning cold once Ren turned to face him fully. “I see you still have scars from the gala,” Akechi observed.

“What?” Ren glanced down to his bare chest. “Oh.”

They technically could  _ barely _ count as scars, at least in Ren’s mind. Four long, arching marks stretched from the right side of his collarbone down to his left ribs, mauve-silver iridescent in color against his pale skin. They had healed considerably compared to how severely he’d bled out, and Ren predicted within another week, the scars would disappear entirely, all evidence of the attack lost. 

“It’s nothing,” Ren said. “And by the way, if you’re gonna continue to worry about me getting hurt doing this, it kinda defeats the purpose.”

With this, Akechi glanced away and sighed, as if Ren’s words were the last bit of argument he needed to believe him. He returned back to his phone easily, though Ren didn’t have such an easy outlet for his nervous energy. Instead he swayed side to side, arms crossed, trying to make himself small enough to disappear from the other employees in the shop.

Helen returned just before Ren was about to run his mouth to fill the void of silence, and for that he inwardly thanked her. She had two suits in her hands, as well as a simple dress shirt, two ties, and a pair of shoes. Akechi glanced over at her choices and set his phone aside as she assisted Ren into the first pair of pants. 

“I selected a couple of options,” Helen said to Akechi, now fully on board that Ren was not the one to be making any decisions. Ren was a bit taken aback at how quickly she followed Akechi’s lead. Perhaps this happened a lot with grooms and their brides? Ren lost track of their conversation, a crimson blush splattering over his cheeks as he fumbled with the buttons to his shirt. Helen held out a blazer to Ren and helped him guide his arms into it with practiced fingers.

“This could go with a darker shirt, too,” Akechi remarked, pointing to the blazer.

“A charcoal or a slate might look nice,” Helen agreed. “Patterns, too, like a simple stripe?”

Akechi hummed, the pitch negative. “I’d normally agree, but not for him. Simple is probably better with this one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ren asked. Helen giggled. 

“We don’t exactly want you to stand out,” Akechi smiled. “Defeats the purpose, right?”

“You know,” Helen began as she handed Ren the shoes she’d selected. “You say that but, you two look  _ very _ familiar.” 

Ren repressed the urge to freeze in place, and forced his way through lacing up the shoes with stiff, jerking motions. Bowing his head, Ren was unable to read Akechi’s expression or how Helen reacted when Akechi chuckled warmly, his voice soft and bright.

“You think so?” Akechi asked.

“I knew you were Goro Akechi from TV once you walked in,” Helen said. “But… I recognized your partner and… it’s on the tip of my tongue…”

Ren allowed the moment of privacy granted from being doubled over on himself, tying his shoes to grimace, an expression of dread painted clearly on his features.  _ Please, don’t say from a magazine…  _ Ren thought as he cleared his expression and attempted a stoic facade.

“From  _ Bloodthirsty!” _ Helen finally gasped after a moment of pause. Ren’s mask cracked as a blush creeped through. “Hold on, let me get it…”

“Oh,” Ren vocalized a moment too late, watching Helen dart to the front and select the magazine, holding it up between her forefingers. “Great,” Ren breathed, ignoring how Akechi chuckled softly. 

“Yup. It’s totally you,” Helen said, holding the cover up near Ren’s cheek. “Wow! I gotta tell my friends— they really loved the interview in here and on the news the other night,” she continued, directed more towards Akechi. “I can’t believe the media’s trying to paint you like some kind of grifter,” and Akechi’s smile only grew larger, his hand raising to fluff through his bangs with an amused chuckle.

“I know,” Akechi hummed. “Whatever will make a headline, I suppose.”

“I thought he was just a model,” Helen gushed, pointing to Ren. Ren’s blush only served to worsen, his shoulders rounding and caving in. “I didn’t realize you two were…”

“Partners?” Akechi recalled Helen’s earlier words. Ren’s glare sharpened to Akechi, who only laughed freely. “I know. They  _ did _ have models there, but I felt more comfortable posing with him.”

“Hey, uh,” Ren cut in, desperate to change the topic as his voice threatened to crack. “W-What kind of color pocket square should we go for, guys? Red? Purple?”

“I was actually thinking a simple white one would be enough,” Helen’s attention turned back to work in an instant, and Ren was thankful she followed along. 

“Let me go look for one,” Akechi said, and rose to his feet. “I’m sure you might need to quickly alter some of the measurements?” He asked Helen. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

As Helen continued to adjust Ren’s suit, Ren felt her curiosity slowly build until it boiled over, and steeled himself once she stood to check the fit across Ren’s shoulders. 

“So, how long have you and him been…”  _ Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. _

“Ah, uh, just a few weeks,” Ren cut her off before she could say any more. “He hired me a few weeks ago. Yeah.”

“Oh, he  _ hired _ you,” Helen murmured. “I didn’t know he was like that.”

Ren’s eye shot open and he nearly choked on the air that he sucked in shock. “N-No, not  _ like _ that. I’m just there to make sure he’s safe.”

“Safe,” Helen echoed. “Oh! So, like you’re his bodyguard, then?”

“Yeah, like that,” Ren nodded, relief flooding her once she understood. “With all the sketchy stuff with that infection vampires are getting, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Helen said, her voice distant as she lost herself in thought. “That’s really cool. I’ve never heard someone describe their partner as their bodyguard, but it makes sense!”

_ She… hadn’t understood.  _ Ren’s flush worsened as he looked for Akechi in the vacant store, only to spot his back facing Ren as he hovered over a selection of ties. 

“Yeah,” Ren gave up then, and allowed the misunderstanding to continue with a tired sigh. “It was all his idea, just like this.”

“But you look really sharp,” Helen approved as she took a step back. “Like.  _ Really _ sharp.” Ren barely withheld an eyeroll. Helen scoffed. “No, seriously. I’m paid to tell the old guys that, but for a suit off the rack, this is turning out  _ really  _ well.”

“You have Akechi to thank, then,” Ren said, somehow stressing Akechi’s last name in favor of using his first. A part of him was tickled when Akechi lifted his head to glance their way, his eyes wide with surprise. 

Helen was comfortable with leaving the silence where it stood and continued to take in the fabric of the suit where it was needed. Ren was happy with this, as he’d quickly become exhausted with having to bat away questions of his and Akechi’s relationship, especially after Helen had been exposed to the  _ Bloodthirsty _ cover… Ren’s answers probably didn’t look all that convincing. 

As Helen was finishing up, Akechi returned with a small collection of pocket squares and ties in hand. Most were monochrome, however there were a few colorful options that Ren wasn’t expecting, and upon first glance, looked hideous. If Yusuke had been present, he would be retching. Ren didn’t try to disguise his doubt as Akechi approached him and laid a tie against his chest. 

“Oh,” Akechi murmured, directed to Helen. Her head perked up from Ren’s pant hem, a note of acknowledgement sounding from her throat. “With the measurements you took, would it be possible to get something custom-made?”

“Of course,” Helen said. “Did you want something like…” Helen glanced up at Ren, briefly. Her voice dropped in tone, as if trying to be sneaky. “What we were talking about earlier?”

Ren’s stare returned to Akechi, eyes cold and hard. Akechi met his gaze and smiled sweetly before he turned back to Helen. “Yes, I think so. We can discuss specifics later,” Akechi said, and returned his focus back to Ren. “Should we go for black and white or…”

“Goro. What’s this about?” Ren asked in a whisper, trying to scan Akechi’s face for any sign or clue. All he was able to read was that Akechi was plotting something. In an attempt to break the ice that had formed at Ren’s command, Ren smirked and said, “Fitting me for a funeral suit?”

Akechi’s eyes hardened. “Don’t be an idiot.”

_ Well _ , Ren thought with a small chuckle,  _ it was worth a shot. _ At the very least, Ren was able to knock Akechi out of his smug mood. Akechi in a bad mood… that was a typical day and entirely expected from Ren, but when Akechi was coy and scheming like this, Ren was operating in unexplored territory.

As if to snap Ren out of his, Akechi had looped a satin-black tie through Ren’s collar and began to make a knot, sliding it uncomfortably close to his neck. Ren made a sound of protest, a pang of fear cutting through when Akechi’s expression hardened. Ren reached up to stop Akechi’s hands from suffocating him then and there, and was surprised when Akechi didn’t swat him away. In Ren’s grasp, he could feel Akechi’s pulse beating rapidly.

“Seriously, are you trying to kill me?” Ren hissed. Akechi glanced down at Ren’s hand, as if silently asking for him to take it away. Ren obliged. “Besides, don’t you have to buy it first?”

“No, we’re going with this one,” Akechi said plainly, and smoothed down the tie once he was finished. Checking his phone again, Akechi sighed and stepped away. “We’d better hurry up here. We’re going to be late.”

“Good thing I’m finished,” Helen chirped as she stood. “I’ll start ringing this up. Did you want me to quote you for the custom suit?”

Akechi shook his head. “I’ll reach out to you with that later,” he responded, and turned his head to Ren. “You can change back into your other clothes, but you’ll just have to change at my place.”

“I’ll stay in these,” Ren blurted, feeling his cheeks burn. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Akechi seemed to fight off a smile as he turned away, following Helen to the register and leaving Ren to scramble and pick up his things.

*******

With what Ren could only assume was a thousand dollars spent, a suit change and drop-off at Akechi’s, and a cab ride later, Ren and Akechi were standing outside a hotel’s event space in Yerba Buena proudly announcing a banquet held by the Coalition of Peace. Patrons in black-tie attire were filtering into a large ballroom just inside and an elevator ride away past a stately reception desk. Ren was assaulted by an overwhelming odor of perfume and cologne, and while it gave him a headache, he noticed with some relief that it was at least covering up Akechi’s scent.

On the cab ride over, Ren had been made aware that in Akechi’s close proximity, his thirst had quickly become uncomfortable despite him feeding earlier that day. Over the past thirteen years, Ren had learned his and how much blood he’d require in a given day, which was odd, considering what he had consumed earlier would’ve lasted him until well after midnight. 

“So,” Ren began, staring up at the building and feeling a bit of vertigo fill him when it stretched upward farther than he was used to. “What are we doing here?” 

Akechi was finishing up sending a few text messages to contacts unknown to Ren. Once he finished, he inhaled sharply and tucked his phone into his breast pocket. 

“Nothing too difficult,” Akechi reassured him. “We’ll have dinner, we’ll talk to a few people. We’ll enjoy the evening.”

“I mean,” Ren murmured. “Do  _ I  _ have to talk to anyone?”

Akechi raised a brow, a small half-smile flitting across his lips. “Not unless you don’t want to?” He responded, though his voice made it sound like a question. “Though you did make quite an impression at the last event. With Dr. Maruki,” Akechi hummed, the tone low, “and your friend was here, Haru Okumura, was it?”

“Yeah,” Ren scoffed. “I didn’t even know she’d be there.”

“Maybe she’ll be here again, tonight?” Akechi asked as he began walking forward into the venue. “Perhaps you can introduce me properly.”

If there was a God, Haru would  _ not  _ be in attendance this evening. Ren wasn’t sure he could survive meeting her in Akechi’s company without warning her beforehand again.

Ren breathed in shakily as he followed Akechi, his throat burning when all he could take in was Akechi’s sweet scent. Saliva flooded his mouth and his body lurched slightly. His thirst was manageable, but it would be a struggle. Akechi had already informed him on the way there that it was going to be a largely human event, so Ren assumed it wasn’t likely that they’d be serving any synthetics.

They passed the threshold of the hotel and were directed up to the eighth floor via elevator to an executive ballroom laid out similarly to the previous function. Twelve round-top tables were laid out in the wide space with light gold tablecloths and white-flower centerpieces. It seemed as though seating wasn’t assigned, unlike the last event. Ren noticed that patrons were grouped together in small, intimate circles as they excitedly discussed different topics, all in range of Ren’s hearing, but unfortunately outside his realm of understanding. 

Akechi led him forward into the room and directly into the path of a medium-sized group of people. As he approached, the group parted to welcome Akechi into the fold. Ren was allowed as well, though he tried to keep his distance and find something to do with his hands. Akechi looked over his shoulder and found Ren to be uncomfortably far away, Ren assumed, and reluctantly stepped forward when Akechi reached to him and gently pulled him forward.

Just in time, a waiter passed by with a silver tray of champagne flutes delicately balanced in hand. Ren took two, one for Akechi to match the group of patrons who babbled amongst themselves, and one for himself to blend in.  _ Would it be too awkward to ask if they had True-O? _ Ren wondered, and scanned the room once with his eyes.  _ Hrm… probably, _ he decided, noting that there wasn’t much of an odor of vampires present, and stuck with holding his breath. 

Akechi was performing the same song and dance as last time — introducing himself, then thumbing through his mental encyclopedia for the background of whoever he was talking to, commenting on their work and how he admired them, strived to be them, or some other plastic excuse that would send the listener into a bashful fit, no matter their age. Ren watched it with mild interest and handed Akechi his glass of champagne to him in between conversations, allowing himself a breath once Akechi turned to him again.

“What’s the matter?” He asked Ren, and sipped idly at his drink. “You look uncomfortable.”

“What are you talking about?” Ren murmured. And a lie, “I’m fine.”

Akechi hummed a note of disapproval. “I’m not sure it's in the best interest of this relationship to lie to each other,” he said. “What’s up?”

_ It’d be better to avoid this,  _ Ren thought to himself.  _ No sense in making this about me. _

“The suit’s not what I’m used to,” Ren lied again, this time a bit more convicted in his speech. By the looks of Akechi’s expression, it seemed to knock him off his tail and lose chase, at least for the moment. “It looks nice though,” he said.

“I agree, I think you’ve never looked better,” Akechi murmured. He turned back to the other guests, not even glancing to see Ren’s face turn an unflattering shade of pink. “Mrs. Williams, is that you? I almost didn’t recognize…”

Ren wasn’t sure what else to do aside from stand in Akechi’s shadow and await any further instructions. He knew Akechi had told him that no defensive action would be necessary, but something in the room, or perhaps the lack of blood in his system, made Ren feel as if he was at a cliff’s edge, eyeing down the descent below. 

Another unwelcome sign of his growing thirst, Ren was beginning to experience tunnel-vision. He would hyper-fixate on a guest, perhaps the one next to him, once directly across, and inhale slowly, trying to pick out their scent amidst the fog of perfumes and ever-present distraction Akechi’s mouth-watering blood presented. It provided an excellent challenge for his nose, at least while they waited for cocktail hour to end and the banquet to begin. 

A woman across from Akechi smelled of fresh-picked apples, which Ren found interesting and very appealing. Sweet and tart… slightly bitter from the apple’s skin. Refreshing and crisp, Ren could imagine the sound of biting into an apple as he took her in. 

A man to Ren’s side smelled like vanilla and sandalwood, reminiscent of the type Yusuke preferred in his too-sweet  _ Vital Squeeze _ . With Akechi at his side, smelling sweetly of maple, butter, sugar, Ren was perplexed to find that one scent could be saccharine, sickly-sweet, enough to give him a headache, and the other… it was almost irresistible. Intoxicating. Never not capable of burning a hole through his throat with how much the intense desire clouded his judgement.  _ Why was that… _

As Ren inhaled deeply through his nose, he felt that dull ember swell to a red-hot flame, but found pleasure in the pain. Pitifully so, he clung to every waft of air that brought Akechi’s scent closer to him. It swelled around him like a thick, opaque fog, blanketing him in the sweetness. His mouth watered as his eyes glazed over, lost in a daydream. 

An alleyway, where all their intimate meetings took place. Akechi would be kind and warm, his gaze soft, welcoming. Ren would approach him slowly, as not to frighten him. The warmth of the tepid rain would only strengthen his smell amid the subtle smell of honeydew he’d drawn from the scent of the fresh puddles. They’d be standing just under the protection of an awning, though Akechi’s hair would be slightly damp, frizzy, and clinging to his pale cheeks. Ren would place his icy hand to Akechi’s warm face, his fingers tangling themselves in the soft auburn hair that hung in delicate curtains down to his mid-neck.

Ren would inch closer, closer, closer still until his lips would brush over Akechi’s velvet soft skin. He would kiss his lips, a sign of good faith,  _ and— _

Akechi’s hand was on Ren’s arm, his bare grasp warm and firm. “We’re going to go sit at table number four,” he whispered to Ren. “Seems like a lively group. Shall we?”

“Yeah,” Ren breathed, still coming out of his haze of thirst. Akechi glanced at him again, his stare penetrating past Ren’s thinly veiled lie. Ren’s eyes tightened as he attempted to steel himself. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Ren pressed, stepping forward. “Let’s go.”

Ren noticed Akechi’s champagne flute had refilled itself at some point during that whole ordeal. Ren was still fidgeting with his in his hand, and took a sip as they neared the table. The bitter alcohol lit a fire on the already dry patch in the back of Ren’s throat, the bitterness cutting at him horribly.  _ How is Akechi drinking this trash? _ Ren thought. 

As they passed Table #8, Ren placed the glass on someone’s empty place setting. Akechi glanced back when Ren hesitated, but hadn’t noticed the sly act, and continued walking forward, weaving past a small crowd of middle-aged adults discussing in low-tones.

Then— a familiar scent hit Ren like a truck, nearly knocking him off balance. It invaded him suddenly, permeating far past any mental barrier he’d constructed.  _ A vampire. _ The overpowering scent of roses and potpourri, and not subtly present. Something sinister lingered there, and the scent triggered a reaction within Ren’s body that scent bile rising up from his throat. 

_ Brandy… no… liquorice?  _ Ren was fighting a mental war around where to place the scent and hadn’t even noticed that they’d arrived at their table and Ren had somehow seated himself.  _ Why was it so familiar…? _

“Ren,” Akechi’s voice again pulled him out of his thoughts. When Ren met his gaze, he found Akechi’s expression had grown annoyed, likely at his frequent distractions. Despite this, his voice was soft and kind as he asked, “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“I’m alright,” Ren murmured, his voice still lost in a daze. Akechi’s lips pursed into a thin line. “You said there’s not supposed to be a lot of vampires here, right?”

Akechi briefly scanned the room. “Aside from you? No, I don’t believe…” He cut himself off abruptly. Ren’s breath hitched as his eyes followed Akechi’s. A certain bald head and amber-tinted glasses. “Ugh. I knew as much,” Akechi scowled, and Ren was certain he could hear Akechi’s heartbeat begin to race. “Shows what kind of class he has, campaigning before Yoshida’s corpse even grows cold.” 

_ Oh. That must be why _ . Ren wasn’t sure if he’d gotten a good whiff of Masayoshi Shido before, but the close proximity to the shady man must’ve sent Ren back to the bloody mess of the gala. Ren shook his head slightly in shock as disdain filled every inch of him, and even deeper, rage.

The table was slowly filling, and Ren was at least thankful Shido was sticking to another table. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to contain himself, or Akechi for that matter, if they were within six feet of each other. Unfortunately for them both, Shido sat down in the natural eye-sight of both Ren and Akechi just one table over. 

Once most had been seated, waiters began dispersing from the kitchen to deliver their first course, a basic salad with bleu cheese, dried cranberries, candied pecans and onions with some sort of sweet-style dressing. Ren picked at it, though it did almost nothing to relieve him from his burning thirst. 

“Would you like something to drink, besides water?” A waiter asked their section of the table. A younger woman in her thirties ordered a glass of white wine and Akechi ordered the same, though when it came to Ren’s choice, he felt uncomfortable asking so brazenly, even if there was the smallest possibility, that they had  _ any _ brand of synthetics available. This was Akechi’s crowd, of course. These were the same people who would purchase fake silver bullets and garlic-soaked necklaces without the excuse of fighting off feral vampires at public events. 

“Red wine, please,” Ren said softly. 

“We have a Zinfandel, a Merlot, and a Cabernet Sauvignon,” the waiter continued.

Ren’s irritation caused his nostrils to flare slightly and he felt his brow tighten.  _ Why’d it have to be so complicated? _ “The Cabernet, then.”

“Right away,” and the waiter left them.

“Hey,” Akechi prodded him. Ren would be lying if he didn’t admit that it worsened his nerves. “Is it because of him?” 

_ Him? Oh. Him _ . Ren had nearly forgotten, already. “Yeah, must be,” he lied. Ren was getting a little too good at this, considering the deal he and Akechi had made not thirty minutes ago.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Akechi whispered. Ren noticed how his breath smelled of alcohol now, and glanced down to see Akechi’s flute of champagne was empty.  _ Two glasses? _ Ren thought, shocked. “I don’t plan on discussing anything with him tonight, so let’s pretend he isn’t even here, alright?”

Their glasses of wine were delivered shortly after, accompanied later by their main course, a choice of roasted garlic chicken, sea bass, or a filet mignon. Ren shuffled in his seat uncomfortably when the woman seated next to Akechi had ordered the chicken, and tried to keep his disgust invisible from the rest of the table. 

He hated to be rude, but Ren could hardly stand sitting there any longer pretending to listen to whatever the table had to say. Taking out his phone, Ren quickly navigated to text Haru.

_ “Hey. What are you doing right now?” _ He sent it and waited. A second passed, he grew impatient, and texted Ryuji.  _ “Did Kamoshida give you any hassle about closing up alone?” _ He sent it, and knowing that Ryuji would likely use any excuse to slack off at a text, awaited a reply. When one didn’t come as soon as he liked, he turned back and texted Yusuke.  _ “Hey, what’re you up to?” _

Ren set his phone on his thigh and sought to at least appear human and fulfill Akechi’s wish to ‘enjoy the evening, enjoy a meal’. He’d ended up with the steak considering it was the most expensive thing on the menu and, hell, it wasn’t his bill. Ren had been hoping that there was at least a little blood on the plate from when the steak was resting, but he couldn’t even be blessed with that simple, yet strange, wish. Cutting into it with a small frown, Ren ate at it and tried to distract himself with the flavors, but found it dry, bland, and unappealing. 

After forcing his way through a good half of his meal, Ren checked his phone after another twenty minutes, thinking it was plenty of time for at least  _ one _ of the three to get back to him. He’d been wrong, sadly, and turned his flighty focus back to Akechi, who’d already gotten a refill on his wine.  _ What the hell… Akechi’s drinking like it’s going out of style, _ Ren thought.

Ren waited impatiently for lull to occur before he spoke to Akechi. “Any notable conversations?” he asked, and folded his hands in his lap, his leg bouncing up and down furiously under the protection of the tablecloth.

“Mm,” Akechi hummed around a bite of steak. His cheeks were pink. “I’ve got another promise to interview. With a bigger newspaper.”  _ And _ he was slightly slurring his words. Only barely. Ren felt a thrill rush through him.  _ Why? _

Ren raised a brow, waiting for Akechi to finish. When he didn’t, Ren pressed, “Would I know it?”

“No, it’s…” Akechi frowned slightly and shrugged. “Mm. You probably don’t know it.”

Ren smiled slightly, despite himself. The first real amount of amusement he’d felt all night, and it was watching Akechi being… tipsy. “Try me. I bet I know,” Ren said.

Akechi’s eyes locked on him as he raised his glass to his lips and took a hearty sip. Ren’s smile grew, unsure if Akechi meant to be intimidating. If he was, it was failing. 

“Know a little publication called…” Akechi paused for emphasis. Ren barely withheld a laugh.  _ “The San Francisco Chronicle?”  _

Ren’s lips parted, eyes widening. “Shut up. You’re not serious.”

Akechi smiled proudly. “I’m not lying,” he said, smug, and then in an instant, his stare was hard, even though his brown eyes were glazed over, losing himself quickly to the alcohol. “Remember? We said we wouldn’t lie to each other,” Akechi murmured, his gaze narrowing. “And you’ve been acting fishy all night.”

Ren smiled, teeth shining in the dim light of the ballroom and momentarily dazzling Akechi. Maybe he’d be drunk enough that this would work... “No I haven’t,” Ren said. He turned in his seat and faced Akechi fully, crossing his legs and letting his knees touch Akechi’s thigh. He threw his left arm over the back of his chair casually, now fully interested, and his thirst becoming a distant thought. “You’re imagining things.”

“Bullshit,” Akechi said, just loud enough for a few people around them to hear. Ren laughed it off, and their eavesdroppers turned away, chalking it up to a friendly argument between young men. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Oh, that?” Ren looked down at his disappointment of a dinner with a small frown. “Nah. I just didn’t like it, and I didn’t want to waste food.”

“You’re wasting it anyway,” Akechi pointed out. His cheeks were an adorable shade of pink, flushed from the alcohol which was now very present on his breath. “By not eating it.”

“It’s a waste anyway,” Ren sighed with an easy smile. “Not like it does anything for me.”

Akechi’s eyes widened and his mouth formed a small ‘o’. Ren sputtered a laugh, louder than he’d intended, and ignored how a few eyes darted their way.  _ Was Shido looking…? _ It didn’t matter. 

“Did you just forget I was…” Ren whispered, barely audible over the jovial mood in the room. 

Akechi’s eyes closed and his face flushed a deeper shade, turning rosier and rosier as Ren spoke intimately with him. Weakly, he peeked at Ren through one eye. “Shut up, will you?”

“Anything you say,” Ren obliged, though he had no intention of keeping his word. He was already thinking of the next question he would ask Akechi, not out of curiosity but to poke and prod at his buttons with the safety net of Akechi’s drunkenness in place. 

Before he could even utter another word, a middle-aged woman two chairs to Akechi’s left peeked around and caught his attention. “Mr. Goro Akechi,” she smiled. “My name is…”

A rude stranger. Ren’s irritation prickled inside of him and caused him to stiffen in his posture. He hung close by to Akechi, even after he felt Akechi scoot closer to hear the woman better. And was she really rude? No, but she’d gotten to Akechi before Ren had a chance. And Akechi was fairly out in the open, Ren supposed, so he was being irrational even being upset about this, but he couldn’t help but feel…

_ Jealous _ .

An ugly word for an ugly emotion, and Ren was completely soaked in it. Not only that, he resigned himself to his bored state from moments ago. Another quick check of the phone, and of course, no responses. An uglier side of Ren internally grumbled,  _ Figures. _

A noise even more atrocious than Ren’s inner thoughts ringed in his ear then, the middle-aged voice of Masayoshi Shido, just one table away. Ren spun back around in his chair to face him and crossed his arms over his chest. Shido looked to be having a much better time than Ren was, as evident by the eight or nine people craning to listen to him, their greedy attentions hanging on to every word the man uttered. 

Shido was somber, his eyes cast downward to the table and his thin brows drawn tightly together. “Yes, I was there, unfortunately,” he began. “When Ambassador Yoshida succumbed to the infection I truly thought it was the worst timing possible. On live TV no less. To think of all the children who likely saw his demise…”

Ren’s jaw clenched together and his stare hardened on Shido’s head.  _ Yes, the children who saw it, and every human who believed vampires were a threat, _ Ren thought.  _ You played a role in this. _

“I know we’ve yet to determine who will fill the late Ambassador’s place,” Shido murmured, though with Ren’s hearing, it was still clearly audible. “But I hope to reassure the people, whether afflicted with vampirism or purely human, that these incidents will not continue to occur. There will be systems put into place…”

Shido’s voice was growing more and more distant, as if Ren was driving clearly and suddenly a wall of fog had surrounded him. His head pulsed loudly and painfully, drowning out the noises of the banquet hall entirely. And then, Ren’s head slumped slightly in his spot as a crushing weight felt like it began pressing down on him. As he struggled to blink through this haze, he noticed Shido was staring directly at him, his gaze oppressive, suffocating.

_ What… was this…? _

A vision. 

A dark alleyway in the sweltering autumn heat. Amber street lights flickering just ahead. A piercing shriek.

An adrenaline rush straight to the heart. 

Ren bit back a gasp as he resurfaced for air, and felt the room spin once he noticed he was still seated comfortably in the banquet hall. Akechi was beside him, still chatting with the woman, though he was accepting a business card from her. Shido just ahead was looking away, now, though his eyes frequently drifted to Akechi’s rather than Ren’s, his gaze tightening each time.

Ren felt hollow. He wasn’t sure the cause, though perhaps sitting in such close proximity to Akechi was the reason why his thirst was  _ literally _ driving him insane. A simple stare from a vampire couldn’t cause such a reaction, could it? He’d have to ask Yusuke…

“Ren,” Akechi pulled Ren from his thoughts for perhaps the hundredth time that evening, and this time, Ren was thankful for his voice. “Ren,” Akechi repeated, his voice firmer. “Look at me.”

Ren obeyed, though moving his head was somewhat of a chore. He blinked in Akechi’s direction and found him staring intently at him, his soft brown eyes scanning over Ren’s body. 

“Yeah?” Ren asked, and noted how his voice sounded distant, still. “What’s up?”

“Enough bullshit,” Akechi nearly hissed at him, and suddenly he was inches away, the sweet scent of wine from his breath enveloping him, and pairing in a delicate way with his unmistakable smell that had Ren’s head spinning. 

Akechi had placed his hand on Ren’s shoulder as he leaned in closer. At sudden lack of personal space, Ren’s heart began to beat so loudly and so quickly that he feared even Akechi could hear it. 

“Tell me what’s the matter,” Akechi demanded. Ren leaned back to put some distance in between them, but Akechi closed it as quickly as it’d been formed.

“Goro,” Ren breathed out, partly a nervous chuckle that left him like a hiccup, and partly shocked into a stunned state. “I-I… We’re in public,” he reminded him, and glanced around to the other members of the table. 

Akechi’s hold tightened, and Ren drew back his eyes to Akechi and Akechi only.

“I don’t care where we are,” Akechi murmured. “You’re acting off. Tell me what it is.” Slowly, it seemed to dawn on Akechi’s drunken mind, and he narrowed his gaze. “Are you… thirsty?”

Ren tried to swallow, but felt only the same, familiar burning in the back of his throat. “I…” Akechi’s stare grew more invasive to the point where Ren had to look away. “You told me to shut up, so, I really can’t say.”

Akechi laughed, the sound brilliantly genuine in the air of fake pageantry. Several turned their heads towards the both of them. 

“Well, if  _ that’s  _ the case,” Akechi said, amused and moving freely all of a sudden. Ren looked to the table and noticed Akechi’s glass was empty again. “I hereby allow you to speak again,” he said, almost slurring his words. “So. Speak.”

Ren’s lips twitched as he fought off a smile. “How generous of you.”

“You know,” Akechi sighed, and inched closer to Ren. “I suppose I’ve already done what I came here to do. I really wasn’t expecting Shido to be here, but of course he is, the damn cur,”

Ren’s eyes flew open, all remnants of his daze and confusion lost as several patrons around them craned their heads in to listen. He began, “Haha, Akechi—” 

“—And there’s really no need to fawn over him, with the amount of people kissing his ass—”

“Akechi,” Ren pressed, and softly swatted his chest with the back of his hand. “Shut up.”

“ _ Don’t _ call me  _ ‘Akechi’ _ ,” Akechi complained back at him, his voice raising slightly. Ren felt a hot sweat break out over his entire body, and he kept swatting him, to no avail. “I  _ told  _ you, we’re  _ close  _ now, so don’t call me that.”

“Okay, okay, Goro,” Ren blurted, desperate to get his attention. People were  _ definitely _ staring. He lowered his voice and spoke in a hushed whisper, hoping he would catch on and follow Ren’s lead. “Maybe we should  _ go. _ ”

“What?” Akechi asked. “You don’t even want to stay for dessert?”

“I think we should  _ go _ , but maybe we can pick up something for dessert on our way home?” Ren had stood then, and pulled Akechi along with him, his body feeling feverishly hot. Was it from the alcohol? “I know a really great spot for tuxedo cake,” Ren lied. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Tuxedo cake,” Akechi murmured, and mildly protested when Ren began walking towards the nearest exit after making certain they weren’t leaving any of their belongings behind. “Why the sudden craving? I thought you didn’t like to waste food…”

“I’m gonna call us a cab,” Ren said. He’d dealt with Yusuke when he was drunk, but Akechi was a different breed. They boarded the elevator and Ren pressed the button for the ground floor. Releasing Akechi’s hand, Ren set him up against a wall when he felt him dangerously lean off to one side. “We’re going to go back to your place, okay?”

“Fine,” Akechi made a noise where Ren wasn’t sure if it was a hum or a huff. Lazily, Akechi eyed him from his spot on the wall, and said drearily, “You look  _ really  _ good in that suit.”

Ren flashed a smile as he navigated to the ride-share app. “As you’ve said.”

“I’m going to order you a custom-made one,” Akechi continued. “One that fits you a bit better.”

“Does this one not fit me well?” Ren asked. He selected a ride and blinked at the cost. Twenty nine dollars, just to go eight miles. He was sure that Akechi wouldn’t mind splitting the cost… Ren would have to remember to bring it up when he was sober.

“Well,” Akechi sighed, almost disappointed. “It doesn’t show off your ass as much as the one you ripped up at the gala.”

Ren nearly dropped his phone. The door to the elevator opened to the fourth floor, and a couple got on.

“W-What?” Ren said in whisper, breathless as what little blood he had in his body rushed to his cheeks.

“You heard me,” Akechi tutted. “This suit is nice, and you look  _ really _ good, but it’s doing your ass no favors. I noticed it in the store.”

“P-Please stop,” Ren begged, and turned away from him in hopes he wouldn’t feel as flustered if he wasn’t staring at Akechi, forcing a smile to the couple who were peeking at them. It didn’t work. A ping from his phone indicated their car was nearby. Ren reached back for Akechi’s hand and pulled him along once the elevator opened up onto the ground floor. “Our ride’s here, come on.”

“Hey,” Akechi complained loudly. Ren shushed him with a sharp hiss. “We agreed we wouldn’t lie to each other, so I’m just being honest.”

Ren exited the building with Akechi in tow and spotted their car on the street. He let Akechi enter first before he slid in next to him, and let the car lurch forward once Ren confirmed their destination. He was thankful for Akechi’s silence, at least, until Akechi’s head began resting on Ren’s shoulder with a heavy sigh.

Ren’s nose was suddenly flooded with Akechi’s scent and the smell of the white wine he had consumed, his soft hair brushing up against Ren’s cheeks as the car hit a bump and Akechi scooted closer to him. His cheek was warm— Ren could feel it through the outer jacket of his suit. Looking down at him without trying to move too much, Ren could see Akechi’s dark lashes bobbing sleepily before they rested, his eyes shut. Again, another heavy sigh, and Ren felt Akechi tuck his body even closer to his, loosely holding onto Ren’s left arm. 

Ren breathed in and winced as the back of his throat burned against his thirst. He swallowed painfully and felt his Adam’s apple bob against his shirt, which was suddenly too tight. 

“Gor—”

“Mmnn,” Akechi groaned lightly, his brows drawing together for a second. “Shut up.” His face relaxed almost instantly, and Akechi breathed in through his nose and exhaled through parted lips. Ren tried to hold his breath to not smell him. “You smell good,” Akechi whispered.

“I … w-what?” Ren choked.

“You  _ smell  _ good,” Akechi repeated, loud enough their driver peeked at them through the rear-view mirror. “Are you wearing cologne?”

“I don’t even…” Ren trailed off due to the dizziness he felt as his thirst flared back at him, now fully enraged. “... Own cologne…”

“Mm,” Akechi hummed. “Gonna sleep a’sec.”

“Okay,” Ren nodded. “Sleep over on the other side of the car.”

Akechi’s response was swift, and slightly irritated. “No.”

“O-Okay.”

The twenty-minute drive persisted like this. Ren had cracked his window despite the chilly outside temperature to at least give his throat some relief from Akechi’s intoxicating scent. He was beginning to feel light-headed even with the crack, and debated opening the window fully, or moving slightly away from Akechi, hoping he’d take the hint that his thirst was  _ really _ not to be trusted, how it’d be so  _ easy  _ to nuzzle his nose into Akechi’s neck and pierce the skin, how it’d be  _ so simple  _ to take advantage of this situation… and put himself out of the misery of wondering what Akechi  _ really _ tasted like.

Ren’s better, saner half of his mind protested loudly against the idea, and berated his hellish temptation until the driver pulled up to the curb in front of Akechi’s apartment. Ren sharply nudged Akechi and ignored how Akechi groaned bitterly back at him, and helped him out of the car with gentle hands. They ascended the stairs as quickly as one could with a drunkard in tow. 

Ren would swear in court that he had been supporting Akechi as much as he could on the way into the apartment, but as soon as Akechi stepped inside, he quickly stepped out of his shoes, loosened his tie and threw it in the direction of the small living room, discarded his blazer and tossed it just short of Ren’s feet, and began unfastening his belt. As soon as Ren heard the metal ringing together and the sharp hiss of the leather against his pants, Ren quickly turned towards the kitchen with a sharp gasp.

“Goro,” Ren hissed, peeking at him through his stray black curls. Akechi turned his head, his brown eyes still swimming in a haze of alcohol.  _ He was entirely oblivious, wasn’t he?  _ “What the hell?” Ren asked.

“What?” Akechi asked. “You’re not okay with this?”

“N-N… I mean,” Ren stuttered, and pocketed his hands as he turned back to Akechi.  _ Was it really all that strange, considering Akechi had seen him in the same situation?  _ Shaking his head free of his shame, Ren swallowed past the burning lump in his throat. “You want to do that in front of me?”

Akechi blinked. “I live here. Why not?” He asked after a beat, and turned to unbuttoning his pants. Such a simple task wouldn’t normally be an issue, but considering the amount of wine Akechi had ingested, Ren supposed he should’ve expected Akechi to tip dangerously to one side and stumble into the wall. 

Ren was there in a blink to catch Akechi before he could fully collide into the wall and tumble into his bookshelf. Akechi took a second to take in his surroundings as Ren lifted Akechi’s shoulder up over his with a heavy sigh, and noted that even with Ren’s enhanced strength, Akechi was feather-light. Once Akechi realized he was being held, his face turned a deeper shade of pink and he averted his stare.

“You’re seriously gonna hurt yourself,” Ren scoffed as he guided him forward and tapped Akechi’s bedroom door open with his foot. Gently, he sat Akechi down on the bed and turned to his closet, eyes scanning through its contents. “You’re lucky Yusuke does this like, once a week.”

“Why am I lucky?” Akechi mumbled softly.

“Because I’m good at dealing with drunks,” Ren explained as he plucked a plain white t-shirt and lounge pants from a drawer Ren felt he could safely assume was Akechi’s pajamas. He tried not to notice how even with Akechi’s laundry detergent, the clothes still smelled sweet, just like him. 

When Ren turned, Akechi was fumbling with his shirt buttons, his brows drawn together as he focused a little  _ too _ hard on the simple task. Wordlessly, Ren approached him and began swiftly unbuttoning the shirt.

“I’m not a drunk,” Akechi mumbled, allowing him to continue. 

“You’re  _ drunk, _ ” Ren corrected him. 

“I’m not drunk.”

“And I’m not a vampire,” Ren smiled. He stepped back and plopped the change of clothes in Akechi’s lap. “I’m gonna go change, and then I should probably head back.”

“Oh,” Akechi vocalized, and as Ren scanned his face, he couldn’t help but tell that Akechi looked and sounded just a bit  _ disappointed.  _ He had turned his head away, though not enough to where Ren couldn’t see how his soft brown eyes were misty, almost pensive. 

Ren narrowed his stare and crossed his arms, leaning back on Akechi’s door as his lips twitched, fighting back a smile. “What’s up? Want me to stay?”

“Well,” Akechi huffed, and shrugged out of his dress shirt before pulling his undershirt over his head. He flung it loosely to where his laundry basket was with a sour flourish. “You don’t have to go home,” he said quietly.

Ren’s smile faded with his confidence, his heart suddenly beating painfully against his chest. He hadn’t been expecting that, or expecting to have to disappoint Akechi like this. The truth was, he  _ couldn’t _ stay, not in the state he was in. He’d ignored his thirst for too long, and if he continued, especially surrounded in the one and only force that made him doubt his self-control and all the barriers he’d made for himself, he might lose himself to temptation and do something he’d regret. 

A stomachache setting in, Ren nervously eyed the door behind him. “Well, uh, I should,” Ren muttered. Akechi glanced up at him, and Ren winced as his gut was flooded with a guilt he hadn’t foreseen experiencing. “It’s just… you were right about me acting weird at the gala,” Ren continued, and reached up to fuss with his hair as a nervous tic. “I should’ve fed myself a bit more before I came out with you today.”

“So, you  _ were _ thirsty,” Akechi said softly. Ren averted his gaze and pursed his lips. “You should’ve said so. I can get you a drink.” Akechi tilted his head to the side and reached to massage his shoulder. 

With little control, Ren’s fangs edged out of their hiding spot as Akechi’s neck exposed itself, and with  _ invitation  _ no less. To his conscious, this was just a spit in the face of anything he’d ever said, or any limits he’d set himself. It was an immediate approval of every fantasy Ren had ever had, Akechi’s warm cheek against Ren’s as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against Akechi’s neck. Feeling Akechi’s pulse quicken…  _ from fear… or from pleasure? _

Ren’s fangs were now fully extended and pressed uncomfortably on his bottom lip.

Ren covered his mouth as he shook his head frantically, and with every inch of self-restraint he had, pressed himself up against the door, as far as he could be away from Akechi in the limited space.

“No,” Ren managed from behind his hand, and crossed his other arm over his chest in a tight hug. Akechi was staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. “No, no, no, Goro. I shouldn’t. No. I shouldn’t do that. I’ve got synthetic at home.”

Akechi’s expression shifted from shocked to confused, his posture stiffening as his brow furrowed. “What are you  _ talking  _ about? I have synthetic here.”

Ren lowered his hand slightly, and his fangs retracted by a hair. “You what?” Ren asked.

“I bought you some  _ True-O, _ ” Akechi said slowly, nodding with each word. He shifted forward slightly, peering closer. “What… were you thinking?”

Ren sighed sharply, feeling embarrassment flood every inch of him. “That you were offering a drink from yourself.”

Akechi’s stare turned cold and his lips parted, as if he were holding back insults with a great deal of force. Softly, scornfully, he asked, “Why would I…”

“I have no clue,” Ren snapped back, and stepped out of the way when Akechi stood and stepped with some difficulty into his loungewear. Still lacking a shirt, he led Ren back out to the kitchen and opened the fridge. 

Producing a four-pack of  _ True-O,  _ Akechi held it out to Ren. “This stuff’s expensive.”

Hearing Akechi say that was quite the statement. Ren scowled and accepted the pack. “Tell me about it.” He glanced at the label, noticing it was different from normal. Instead of AB, it was type O.

Ren’s disappointment must have been poorly veiled, as once Akechi surfaced again from the fridge with a bottle of water, he asked, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Ren murmured, and plucked a bottle from the pack and popped the cap with his teeth with practiced ease. Helping himself to Akechi’s microwave, Ren stuck it in for a safe thirty seconds. Knowing Akechi, he’d probably have a microwave strong enough to melt sand into glass in fifty seconds. After dry steak, burnt synthetic wasn’t the first choice on his list of things to consume next.

“I wasn’t sure what type to get,” Akechi explained around a sip of water. “So I asked the cashier for whatever was most popular.” 

“Mm,” Ren hummed.  _ Figures,  _ he thought. The average vampire didn’t really care as much as Ren tended to, one of his fatal flaws. “They were right, O’s the most popular, but it doesn’t have a lot of flavor,” Ren said after the microwave pinged. It still had a chill, so Ren opted for another fifteen seconds. “I mean, it does the job.”

Akechi raised a brow. “So, what do you prefer?”

Ren loosened his tie and slid it over his head, setting it on the counter. Finally, an easy answer. “AB.”

“Ha,” Akechi blurted.

Ren paused as he took off his blazer, freezing in his spot. “... What.”

“Oh, it’s just...” Akechi sighed, amused, and lazily turned Ren’s bottlecap over in his fingers, “...that’s my blood type.”

A small silence existed between the two of them as Ren felt a blush creep onto his cheeks and Akechi’s small smile grew, his white teeth peeking through. It was interrupted by the microwave beeping, and trying not to seem too eager to escape the situation, Ren rushed over to collect his drink. 

“I was just remembering how the night after the gala you had said that my blood was the best thing you’ve smelled in a decade,” Akechi continued, and Ren stared in shock as he searched for the drunken idiot who’d been in front of him but moments ago and coming up woefully short. “What was it you said I smelled like… sweet, like pancakes?” 

Ren forced a chuckle before he hid himself in the bottle, drinking nearly half of its contents in one pass. Once he surfaced, Ren wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “Yeah, but everyone with AB smells sweet,” he rushed to explain after he’d noticed Akechi was staring at him, expectant for a response. “It’s such a rare type, though, so they don’t really get the flavor right in the synthetic…”

“So, if another person with AB comes along,” Akechi began to ask. Ren bit his lip and walked over to the couch. As he sat, he was caught off guard by how Akechi was right behind him and he hadn’t even noticed, and clumsily bumped into him. Akechi sat himself close to Ren as he caught his balance, a bit too close to be safe, as Ren’s thirst was still tearing at him from inside. “You find them irresistible, too?”

“No,” Ren breathed, and swallowed hard, finding some sort of sick pleasure in the burn that Akechi’s scent lit within him. “It’s… just you.”

“My,” Akechi sighed happily. Ren felt a shiver of desire course its way up his spine. He bit his lip and tensed against it, though Akechi’s sly smile indicated he had felt it, and knew what it meant. “What an honor.”

Akechi reached up to tug at the knot on Ren’s tie, loosening it. Ren felt his muscles freeze with shock and confusion, and found himself unable to do much but watch as Akechi pulled on one end of the tie, the warm fabric slipping past Ren’s neck and onto his lap with a slight  _ thwip. _ He shivered again and made a small noise from his throat, hesitant. 

“Goro,” Ren finally found his voice, and felt it close up again when Akechi pressed closer and raised a hand to remove Ren’s glasses, discarding them with a harmless clatter onto the nearby coffee table. “ _ Goro _ ,” Ren said, weaker this time. 

“Hmm?” Akechi hummed back, focusing his attention on unbuttoning Ren’s shirt, his warm hands gentle.

“W-Wh…” Ren felt like he’d been suffocated and just got a merciful breath of air, though the scent was nothing but Akechi, and thus cut into him like a knife. “ _ What _ are you doing.”

Akechi met his eye. Still, his dark brown gaze swam in a haze of alcohol, his attention loosely focused and his pupils wide with either alcohol or pleasure… Ren wasn’t sure. Akechi’s face hovered closer to his, the scent of wine heavy on his breath. He tucked a stray hair behind Ren’s ear.

Akechi spoke calmly, softly, “I’m returning the favor.”

_ But... this wasn’t right. _ Ren could hear his heartbeat in his ears and his cheeks feel as if they’d been directly next to a hot furnace, a hot sweat threatening to break out all over his body. His fangs began to extend past the point of no return, and his pants began to feel tight, too tight, as he swelled within them. 

“I-I’m okay,” Ren forced out, and had to force some distance between them before things escalated. He quickly undressed from his shirt and tossed it on a nearby armchair. His set of casualwear was in his tote bag just nearby, and before Akechi could get any further ideas, he slipped on his black t-shirt, moving to his pants next. He was sure to face away from Akechi as he moved carefully around his newest and  _ sensitive _ problem as he slipped back into his jeans. 

“You’re leaving,” Akechi murmured, sounding upsettingly disappointed again. Ren’s heart ached for several beats as he struggled with the button at his hips. 

Turning, Ren reached again for his bottle of  _ True-O  _ and downed the rest of it. “I don’t have to, since you have this,” Ren offered. “But… we shouldn’t do this.”

“This,” Akechi repeated plainly. Ren huffed, frustrated with himself. “You don’t want to…?”

“N-... Well, uh,” Ren hesitated as temptation plagued him as harshly as his thirst. He shook his head, his dark curls falling down against his forehead in ripples. “No,” Ren answered, and again, more firmly, “No, not with you being as drunk as you are.”

Akechi blinked once. Twice. Three times, and a small smile ghosted across his lips.

“You  _ are _ a gentleman,” he purred. “Look here at Mr. Perfect.  _ Hmph _ . Perhaps I hired a bodyguard that was  _ too _ protective.” 

Ren smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck as he sat back down. “Guess so.”

“Then, sleep with me instead,” Akechi said, and leaned into Ren’s chest again, pushing him down onto the sofa with little difficulty. Ren made a noise of protest and Akechi groaned audibly back at him, and tucked his head to Ren’s chest. “Not like that, you idiot, you’ve made that part clear.” 

Ren inched away out of reflex. Akechi held onto Ren’s waist and moved with him. Exasperated, Ren breathed, “D-Don’t you want a pillow or something? I mean, wouldn’t your bed be more comfortable?”

“No, this is fine,” Akechi grumbled sleepily. Ren winced as Akechi snuggled into him tighter, yet shifted uncomfortably with where he held himself at Ren’s pelvis. “Is your phone in your pocket?”

Ren clenched his jaw. Hard. His face burned painfully, though thankfully, it was out of Akechi’s field of vision. “Yeah,” Ren lied quickly. “Sorry, it’s a lot bigger than my last one. You know how bulky those phones get, right? Haha.”

Despite feeling this, Akechi finally settled, content to believe Ren’s lie and providing little in the way of protest. His body suddenly grew heavier on top of Ren as each of his limbs relaxed. Ren could feel Akechi’s heartbeat in his own chest, and listened to it as it began to slow with his breathing. 

Once Ren felt the problem in his lower half improve slightly, he cleared his throat quietly, wincing at the sharp pain that still existed when he took a deep breath in. Softly, he spoke, “Goro. I really think your bed would be more comfortable.” For the both of them. 

Akechi stirred slightly, but said nothing. Ren waited a few beats for him to speak, but when he was met with nothing but silence, Ren prodded Akechi’s cheek gently with his index finger.

“Goro,” Ren said, just a bit louder. He poked him again, just a bit harder. “Goro…”

Akechi grabbed his hand, his warm fingers interlacing with Ren’s and clasping them firmly before they relaxed into a weak hold. “Shuddup,” Akechi slurred, sleep heavy in his voice. “Stoppit.” 

_ No helping it then, at least for now.  _ Ren sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, wide awake. His heart was beating just a bit faster than Akechi’s, and for a while Ren tried to lull himself to some sort of sleep with how Akechi’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths that grew more shallow as time went on. With Akechi’s head tucked close to Ren’s collar, his brown hair was all that he could see, and for a few minutes Ren watched Akechi’s hair blow around as he exhaled, though with each inhale his thirst became more difficult to ignore.

Usually one bottle of synthetic would be enough for a few hours, but with Akechi, it might as well have been water. Ren attempted to distract himself from how his thirst nagged at him, weaker than it had moments before, but still with enough power that Ren’s fangs were still extended, his mouth watering uncomfortably, skin prickling as if he’d been struck with electricity. This wasn’t good.

“Goro,” Ren whispered again, and waited for a response. Would he be yelled at for moving Akechi? Really, it was in his best interest… “Goro,” Ren tried again. Nothing. “Goro, I’m going to take you to bed.”

Akechi’s only response was a sleepy sigh that flooded Ren in his scent, clouding his senses momentarily. Ren shifted slightly and held Akechi’s back in one arm, shifting him as he sat up so he could hook his other arm under Akechi’s legs. He stood slowly, carefully, still surprised by his same feather-light weight, and tucked him closer to his chest. Akechi slumped against him and complained weakly under a heavy veil of sleep. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Ren whispered, knowing Akechi wouldn’t be able to hear it, but feeling the need all the same. “It’s for the best,” he said as he approached Akechi’s bedroom. “I can’t really work for you if you’re dead,” Ren added, in a slight sing-song.

Ren operated quickly and carefully as he pushed back a corner of Akechi’s bedding and set him down. He draped a blanket over Akechi’s shoulders and stepped back slowly, cautiously, as if he were walking away from a ticking time bomb. When Akechi didn’t stir, Ren sighed heavily with relief, and found himself staring at him from the doorway. 

He looked so peaceful… it was an expression Ren had never seen Akechi wear, but he was briefly transfixed on the peaceful beauty he exuded. With his soft lips slightly parted and his dark lashes resting on his pale cheeks, Ren almost thought he was looking at a painting. He wished he could stare at him forever, held within Akechi’s spell until the moment he woke, but again, his thirst prodded him. So easily could Ren approach him again, set his fangs to Akechi’s wrist that hung limply out towards Ren. 

“Get another bottle,” Ren scolded his thoughts, and forced himself to turn around and shut the door behind him. 

Ren stuck all three remaining bottles in the microwave, knowing with how little the first bottle satiated him he’d need the rest to prevent himself from ‘checking’ on Akechi and ending up in a dangerous situation. And after they were warmed, Ren forced himself to drink them all, even with the bland flavor and past the discomfort he felt as overfed himself, beginning to feel like a swollen tick. 

He disposed of the evidence, made a mental note to provide his own  _ True-O  _ next time he visited, and crossed back towards the sofa where he laid back, draping a nearby throw blanket that smelled of Akechi over his frame. As he settled himself, Ren felt the unnerving emptiness from the lack of a spirit-bound familiar on his chest, purring softly, and wondered if it really  _ was _ appropriate that he stay. On the off chance Akechi was serious and would berate him when he was sober after finding Ren gone, Ren opted to stay, if not for his own selfishness. 

Ren’s sleepless eyes wandered to Akechi’s bookshelf where the familiar portrait of a much, much younger Akechi and his mother resided, clear of dust and meticulously cared for in a simple frame. He was unable to look away from it after a few beats, finding himself completely and utterly hypnotized by its contents.

It felt so familiar… like he had known why just a month ago… but now, nothing. An uneasy void consumed his chest as Ren rolled over to face the back of the couch and forced his eyes shut, breathing in deeply and surrounded by Akechi’s warm, sweet scent. Behind his eyelids, Ren could still see the younger Akechi’s bright smiling face, his imagination flickering between the lovely sight and one much darker. Pale, terrified, and looking down on him as he lay on his back, eyes aimed upward at the sky as fire coursed through his body.

_ Why was it so familiar... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, Happy New Year! It's been an amazing journey getting up 'till this point and I want to thank each and every one of you who have joined me thus far. I've met new friends, pushed past my comfort zone, and am set to complete my second (longest) multi-chapter fic (yay!!). I couldn't have done it without your support, so thank you, thank you, thank you. 
> 
> I'd also like to thank my (two) betas and best friends this chapter, as always my thought partner and motivator, Sam (@CometSams), and my other thought partner and the other half to our OC OTP, Popo (@cygruss), who helped me in editing this beast of a chapter.
> 
> And thank you to all that left comments on the previous chapter - I love to see friendly and engaging discussions in the comments!! That thrilled me to bits and reminded me of when in college we had to respond to other people's discussion prompts, but more fun because it's all about the carefully orchestrated tension I keep dragging out between Ren and Goro! Whoops! :")
> 
> And, if you choose to, my tip jar is open! The funds raised there help support me financially and help me spend more time writing. Please note it is not necessary at all, but simply there if you want to tip. You can find it at https://www.buymeacoffee.com/maweea. To those of you who tipped, I cannot begin to thank you enough. I'm very glad the work so far has been enjoyable enough for you to give back. Happy Holidays!
> 
> That will be all from me this chapter! As far as next chapter goes I'm going easy on my betas and not giving a concrete date here right now, but trust me that I will maintain regularly updating until completion. You can follow my Twit @maweepa for more time-bound updates, and also if you enjoy Genshin Impact, P5R, or Hades as my account is pretty RT-heavy. I'll see you all again very very soon, and remember to be kind to yourself - you DID it. You made it through 2020. That's a BIG deal and you should be proud of yourself. <3


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